


A friend of a friend is sadly an asshole

by HoldOnImConfused



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Accidently dropped a bunch of angst into this, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, But maybe feels too, Daryl took a tumble, Dreams and Nightmares, Enemies to Lovers, Feels, Fire, Hurt/Comfort, I think I lack a bunch of tags too, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Intimacy, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Scars, Sex, Snow, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Tension, oops i mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 32,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29268450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoldOnImConfused/pseuds/HoldOnImConfused
Summary: Daryl Dixon was a friend of a friend who actually wasn’t a friend in the end. Though they’d known each other for years now thanks to their common ground by the names of Aaron and Eric dragging them along, they rarely interacted with each other out of personal interest toward the other and when they did, they’d end up arguing until they were pulled apart.
Relationships: Aaron/Eric Raleigh, Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a one chapter thing, but I found a place where I felt it would be more suitable to split the fic into two chapters (and I asked a trusted advisor about it too, so I decided to go through with the split at that). This makes chapter 1 mature rated at best, as for the E rating this goes for chapter two, so if you don't want that chapter one suffices to make the fic a short story ending where it does.
> 
> Anyways, to the less mattering note scribbling. My brain has been dead and it's almost been a year since I posted chapter 1 of another fic. I'll confess, chapter 2 is almost done in that fic, I just can't get it right the way I want it and have been struggling with it ever since the first week, all those months ago HEH. So my delight came when I actually manage to write something again, which was this. Chapter 2 (final chapter) is 98% done, undergoing cleaning and some editing if I find it necessary, it's long AF tho, be prepared if you decide you wanna continue once I post it. I've been reading fics from another fandom and as I went through a bunch of them and the ships typical friends but not friends relationship, I wanted to put Rick and Daryl into it, seriously into it, we're talking season 1 bad but in an AU of course so it's different. But yes! So here is part 1, hope I don't disappoint, if it gets boring while you read, just ditch this shit and mistakes/errors are sure to have slipped past my clean and editing, sorry about that if you happen upon them <3
> 
> (I have not dropped I deras Dvalande Sinnen, I am determined like a MF to continue on it.)

Now there was a face he could have happily done without seeing tonight.

It was already cold enough that his balls would threaten to freeze off any second now, which was bad enough before the sight Rick had, much to his misfortune, happened to come across. Few years and rare as they were, the temperature had dropped lower than normal in Atlanta a few days before New Year’s Eve and just the night before the first of January, snow had started falling. It had started piling softly slow, yet was still stubbornly going as if it was fighting off it’s soon to be end with determination considering snow never stayed for long in the south. Still, it happened, but last time it snowed like this.. Rick even had to give it a minute, compiling memories and mapping out a timeline connecting them, to reach the conclusion of at least five years since they had a decent snowfall that lasted to see another day or two, usually melting away as fast as the snow landed on the streets.

It wasn’t that he hated snow, in fact he rather liked the fluffy white and how it illuminated everything around, all the while softening the city lights to cozy yellow shifting glow that was far too pleasant on the eyes. He just wasn’t too fond of the cold and the extra layer of clothing it required.

Yarn mittens lay tucked over a thinner finger pair on his hands, a second layer on his torso and his legs beneath his uniform because yea, he was the sad kind of idiot who worked on days most people fought tooth and nail to have off. A pair of mufflers in simple black covers over his ears with its headband pushing down on his hair underneath the cap, all too uncomfortably but miserably necessary since the pathways of his ears didn’t last long against the cold. They would thrum even at a short term exposure, and throb like a headache that had gotten lost on a road trip, ending up in his ears instead of his skull, in a way he could probably picture it close to something sharp pushing into them as slowly as the snow was falling, adding that pressure constantly and just a little bit heavier from time to time, . So the discomfort of the mufflers had to be, if only forcefully so, manageable and necessary.

He sniffled and clumsily adjusted, because he refused to take the mittens off, the thick scarf he’d wrapped three laps around his neck thanks to the length of it while he rubs his toes against the thick wool socks covering his feet inside his shoes, the pair a hearty Christmas gift from Shane two years back along with the informative tip that was saving his toes from curling up into freezing little nubs he wouldn’t be able to feel in that very moment if not for his partner, that double socks, especially thicker knitted ones like he had on required bigger shoes so your feet and toes would have space to move around just enough to create friction as you walked.

White was everywhere around, his breath too was showing itself in front of him in the same shade only dimmer, puffy clouds like smoke drifting just about the top of his scarf when he was breathing out and everything seemed so calm layered in the snow like this, quiet, almost putting the city to a temporary snooze. Late as it was, he supposed that most people had retreated back to their homes after midnight had chimed because of the weather and they’d saluted the new year in joined companionship, satisfied with their celebration and, judging from the quiet bustling of the streets now close to two hours into the new year, those that were left kept themselves tucked into the warmth of the bars that would be open for a while longer instead of stumbling about on the streets creating the usual messes Rick would normally have to tend to, or was dancing their night off in the clubs, isolating themselves perfectly confined. And it the latter were causing a fuss, it’d be the job of said establishments security team unless it got out of hand, so it wasn’t much of a concern for Rick since that rarely happened.

Little had so far and although that had left his shift quite boring, slow and uneventful, there was no denying that it was more than refreshing once you got used to the pace, albeit a bit curious and amusing all the same that even the cold seemed to bum crime out enough for it to take the day off. Well, if crime asked him, it wasn’t like he was going to disagree on the matter and, it was a perfect chance to wrap up what little paperwork he had, run the monthly inventory that Shane should have done two days ago and control-check of the cases that were reaching their trial dates. One couldn’t be too careful after all and, sad as it was, he enjoyed being thorough. Which is exactly why his stack of files to wrap had only kept him busy for an hour and a half and that was with him going through it twice before he’d proceeded with the rest of the small tasks, ultimately ending up in the break room playing cards and eating leftover cake from the day shift with Abraham until he’d decided to head out and give his legs and ass some circulation back after sitting on cheap wooden chairs for too long.

Outside, though having to deal with the suffocating feel of extra clothing he’d layered up on in the locker room, at least he wasn’t bored. Mindful to keep the coms with him he’d caught a few incidents that normally wasn’t under their responsibilities but it didn’t mean he couldn’t help his fellow protectors of the law out. In a way, aside from the snow and the dullness it applied to noise, it was soothing going back to the roots. Of course he minded himself as to not overstep, offering his services in the smaller tasks, but most of all he enjoyed how familiar it all was even if it had been years since he’d been promoted. The cold sucked of course, constantly trying to B&E itself into his clothing with desperation but nonetheless, as he made his way through the streets, the city scenery like this, was warming to the soul.

All the way until that.. that right there.

The snow under his boots croaked that cozy sound that Rick loved the most about snow. Often he’d go for a walk when the snow had just piled up enough to hear it, squeaking and cracking, all differently depending on the moisture of the white crystals. Kind of figures that he’d been the kid who loved jumping on iced puddles to make it crack along with it right? Now though he couldn’t find a single bit of him that could listen to the sound and smile at how it’d pleasantly fill his chest with something special, instead the only thing he heard was himself clicking his tongue in distaste, not just because his coffee only had a sip or two left of it but also because of the sight before him. To think it had almost been a perfect day, fucking hell.

Amongst the crumpled white all stirred and disrupted, yet still looking peaceful, snow was amazing like that when it wasn’t raging around in a blizzard, the contrast of flushed red and pink despite paling awkwardly was stark against the white. The mop of hair was messy, wet and it seemed to have chilled enough that the snow which was still landing, wasn’t joining the rest of its melted flake companions. The noise was half wheezing, slurry even in what.. he didn’t actually want to believe it, was definitely snores, the asshole was fucking sleeping. Didn’t look very comfortable either, neck crooked impossibly wrong, reeking of alcohol, half draped over a pile of trash bags which had its black colored plastic poking through the cracks of white every here and there.

For all the good in him, Rick still couldn’t help himself from savoring the moment just a little. How the asshole was halfway upside down with his face almost cushioned in the white layer covering the ground. Of course, there was some trash scattering the clothes from one of the bags that had broken, probably in the tumble down and though the area was badly lit and in this sole occasion the snow didn’t do much help with its comfort factor, Rick thought he could see the kind of shading that most likely meant nasty bruising later. There was a stiff peel of a banana trapped half into the collar too.

With a sigh Rick turned over to the dumpster next to the bags of trash and downed the last two chugs of his coffee before he propped the lid up enough to drop the paper mug inside, empty as it was, thinking to himself that it’d been pretty convenient timing to happen upon this when he’d run out of coffee. Then he crouched down, tilting his head up, then back down to snuggle his nose beneath under the scarf again and still, for all the good in him he couldn’t stop himself this time either from letting the display play out for about half a minute longer than it was necessary. So unaware, defenseless, when normally, this guy was guarded and aggressive, it was another half a minute after the first one that he caught on to his thoughts and felt himself perplexed of the way those thoughts had crossed his mind. It was in the normal aggravated way and maybe, Rick had to realize, it unnerved him with uncertainty too, because he’d never even once thought something like that of the guy before, any notion of vulnerability hadn’t existed. Well, okay maybe it was a far stretch, his face looked stupid and he smelled of foolishness with that reek of.. everything disgusting in this alley combined.

But still, fine, it was undoubtedly odd and still, he had very much been wrapped up in a lost moment of just watching the guy sleeping the booze off in the midst of trash and snow, not seeming to mind how cold it was and that he could freeze to death, unable to stop or even realize he was doing it. Rick had never seen him like this, he may be an asshole who pissed Rick off any chance he got, they may have mutual friends but under no circumstance had the two of them ever been of that kind of relationship, not even on the best of their days and to Rick’s defense, he wasn’t the one who’d forsaken any chance of friendship before it had even started, but the man wasn’t like the foolish display that Rick had in front of him right now, nor was he that kind of reckless.

Oh, his fingers were getting cold on his right hand, chilling down fast everywhere except the pad of his index finger when Rick noticed he’d taken the mittens and the finger gloves off one hand and was currently poking the guy on the cheek. Though even when he realized what he was doing he didn’t retract his finger, instead let it lay its light pressure to see just how out of it this guy was. There was a mumble coming from the heap of trash, snow and limbs struggling meagerly, slurred and whiny like a teenager that would mumble _ten more minutes_ in the very sheer refusal to wake up.

“Hey.. aren’t you too old for this kind of thing?” Rick asked, tone flat and quiet, not disinterested but not particularly invested either, just a whole lot of nothing in specific, an indifference suitable to the moment. There was another mumble coming from the heap and the pad of Rick’s finger started chilling down when the man twisted his head away from it, jokes on him because the movement just shoved the side of that face down further into the snow instead.

“Common, can’t have you freeze to death in your sleep out here.” He spoke, a bit louder to reinforce his effort. Okay maybe it wasn’t entirely ruining his evening, there was some amusement he surely would harvest from it all but, thankfully his duties remained strong and he gave the man another poke only to have his hand sluggishly slapped away. At least the man stirred in all limbs, stiffly though and whatever smile Rick may have felt playing at his lips for this blackmail material in their endless fighting, died off right away. He really was too sluggish for Rick’s taste, enough for something twisting in his gut in alarm wondering just how long he’d been out there in the pile of trash.

“Daryl, hey it’s Rick, wake up.” He reached for the wrist that had slapped his hand away to wrap his fingers around it, to shake lightly first and pull after. Rick felt the crease sink between his eyebrows when the skin beneath his fingers was ice cold against his touch and sad to admit it because of this, Rick had never thought he’d ever have to feel a stir of concern for this man, but forced to as he was, he clearly was and it scared the shit out of him. There was some resistance and Rick had to re-capture his grip once when a rough tug had made him lose it, then adjust it twice more over that. Even drunk and chilled to the bone Daryl Dixon was stubborn, but perhaps Rick should have known that after his long term affiliation with the man, not getting along didn’t mean you didn’t learn a thing or two about the other after all and such was the case with this one.

Rick was too though, stubborn, especially when it only made the twist in his gut worse when he barley had to use any strength to maintain the grip from there on. The tugging and attempted trashing had weakened significantly after the initial rough one, now closer to just muscles moving and crying in pleas to be released. Wasn’t right, Daryl Dixon wasn’t a man Rick should be genuinely concerned about and yet, here he was, shutting down those empty and weak attempts to brush Rick’s help off, pulling a slack arm over his own shoulder while clenching his teeth together to keep his head in order. If he could at least get Daryl to wake up, preferably getting the man up on his own two feet then maybe he’d be able to stand on his own and Rick could send him home in a cab, yep such was the quick shift plan he just made, such was what he decided to do.

First though, he needed to be careful, pushing up halfway to get Daryl’s body properly positioned upright rather than upside down. He got a groan in response to his shoulder pressing into the side just below the armpit before he could reposition the arm and push the two of them up the last bit needed. Looking at his face like this, Rick easily considered that the man may have a sore spot or two beneath the clothing and that he had accidently reminded Daryl of said spots with his efforts just now. Well if anything, at least Rick wasn’t cold anymore. Shuffling a full grown drunk man in double layers definitely did wonders for your body heat. He was probably even breaking out a sweat by taking care of this asshole considering how difficult the task was when you were limited in your movements, but he couldn’t be sure. Rick cursed beneath his breath when he caught sight of the mitten and glove he’d taken off, laying neglected on the ground and quickly weighed the options of repeating this mess just to get it, or to leave it and spare himself the trouble. The answer was simple really, his hand would just have to deal with it for now.

“Would you wake up already?” Daryl Dixon, as it turns out, was heavy as fuck. Rick had known the guy was quite fit, but carrying the dead weight by one limb draping over his shoulders made it painfully clear that Rick had severely underestimated the mass of the guy. Daryl Dixon also, as Rick was learning this late on, was a pain in the ass to wake, and Rick had to suffer through snapping stumbles to regain his balance when the guy had shifted in his half ragdoll state, almost sending both of them down onto the ground again.

“For fuck’s sake..” He’d started when he’d felt another of those shifts, knowing what was coming and how difficult it was to keep both of them standing because of it. Relying on instinct and short term memory, Rick adapted to the first counter measure he could to prevent both of them from tumbling down for Rick to land on his ass and Daryl well, he’d probably be a pile of limbs if it did happen. It was an alright attempt, not flawless, the next time..

“Sshh..up.” Rick snapped his head to the side to find the pale lips moving, slurring badly, the sound instantly popping a nerve somewhere at his temple, wouldn’t even be surprised if it forced a vein to dent out on his temple in demonstration of his rekindled frustration. Did Daryl Dixon just fucking tell him to shut up when Rick was so generously helping out his enemy?

“Yeah yeah, make me asshole.” He bit out and pulled on the arm a bit rougher. Forget concern and thrive in petty revenge instead, real mature, definitely. The pained grunt he got in return did little to satisfy his handiwork and only served to kick himself mentally in the side for acting like a child, knowing the guy was hurt and stooping as low as to use that to his advantage just because they happened to have a long serving, but sour relationship. Didn’t make things much better, even half unconscious and likely to be completely unaware of what he was doing or who was next to him, Daryl still managed to press his nerves just as easily as he did when sober. There was just something about the man’s attitude that seemed to be able to rile him up no matter how much Rick had fought it from the start, he wasn’t even an easily agitated guy, in fact he was quite patient, understanding and caring, but Daryl would press and Rick’s nerve would burst, and there was little to nothing he could do about it.

* * *

Daryl Dixon was a friend of a friend who actually wasn’t a friend in the end. Though they’d known each other for years now thanks to their common ground by the names of Aaron and Eric dragging them along, they rarely interacted with each other out of personal interest toward the other and when they did, they’d end up arguing until they were pulled apart. Daryl went first as per usual, commenting something Rick did or said in a nonchalant but disinterested tone and Rick would follow with a counter that suggested the guy would be better off if he just didn’t do anything to begin with, after that it’d normally escalate to a higher volume of their voices, name calling and a constant flow of insulting references. Though Daryl Dixon wasn’t all that talkative, it didn’t mean his short statements and comments didn’t hit hard enough, and whatever it was, Rick couldn’t stop himself from falling for it every single fucking time. The pattern would repeat itself, as it had for as long as they’d known one another and would, for as long as they continued to do so, like some kind of foretold ancient prophecy.

Such was their relationship, doomed from the start and not by Rick’s hand for that matter, thinking back on it as he loosened the arm in his guilt for hurting the guy (even though Rick really wanted to believe that Daryl deserved it), that first day almost appeared as if Daryl had already decided that they’d hate one another and made sure that it panned out that way. Rick had been nothing but nice, not shallow or caking himself out as something he was not, but honest and polite while Daryl had been wary in their first greeting, close mouthed and just generally seeming disinterested in increasing the amount of people in his social circle. Aaron, who Rick had gotten to know through his boyfriend Eric that worked in dispatch, had apologized in hushed whispers and warned Rick that he could be difficult, but that he was a good guy and if such words came from Aaron, then Rick had no reason to doubt them.

Throughout that evening Rick had let it slide and they hadn’t even talked very much, figured the guy needed to take his own time and so, he’d focused on enjoying his chats with Eric and Aaron instead while Daryl Dixon brooded on his own with a beer, a mere presence at the table, picking on the label of the bottle. Though the man didn’t engage more than respond to something Aaron or Eric said, he hadn’t looked like he wished to be anywhere else, eyes still in focus as he paid attention to their social little circle.

Rick had given up on talking to him the third time Daryl had ignored his initiative, but learned that if he said something Daryl thought to be stupid, the man would crudely say so with the lack of any filter whatsoever. It sucked, a bit, he knows he’d fretted about it at the time, felt a sense of insecurity rumbling in his system because he couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong and the only thing he could do was remind himself of what Aaron had said. So he’d stuck it through, with those words tucked tightly to his heart when he’d noticed Daryl Dixon’s gaze softening when one conversation between Aaron and Eric got particularly enthusiastic. It was thicker than him just paying attention, Daryl was actually enjoying the display of bickering affection that was happening, a warm gaze surveying something precious in its sheltered way and Rick had been caught thoroughly off guard by it, gotten lost in a tenderness he never would have expected of this man when it slipped through just enough in those deep blue’s for him to catch a hold. Even to this day Rick can’t even remember what the conversation had been about, he hadn’t been listening an ounce.

It’s what led him to his destruction later that same evening, because anyone capable of showing gentle care and love like that, although protected as it was, there had been no hesitation or reluctance to let it roam free, nor had Daryl shown any signs of feeling sappy or self conscious and tried to hide it, couldn’t actually be that bad. Thus, asshole or not Rick had unknowingly given the guy a free pass for his behavior and when they were happily drunk nearing the end of the night, Dixon was properly wrecked too, just like the rest of them.

The said destruction went as following, when Daryl Dixon’s head had slipped from the palms of his hands where it had been resting, thunking ungracefully into the table and eliciting a long drawn out and horrid groan, yet no attempts to lift that head was made, Rick and his new opinion of the man, although, still mainly an asshole but clearly not entirely one when the man himself didn’t want to be, had foolishly led him on to believe that things didn’t have to be as awkward and shunning as they were and there was hope yet. Not that he personally felt the dire need to become buds, not because Daryl’s issue was clearly personal if he could value people like he did with Eric and Aaron. But it would be nice to get along, even just a little for the sake of the friends they did share and thus, willing and convinced enough from both earlier and Aaron’s words to keep trying, maybe feeling just a little bit sorry at the awful sound of head hitting table that insisted on echoing in the safe shelter of his own skull, he’d slipped out of his chair to help the guy up and hopefully earn some points in companionship for his gesture. If Aaron or Eric would have had any idea of it happening, surely they would have warned him, but clearly from their silence and horrified expressions, frozen in their spots that he’d barely managed to see as it happened, they hadn’t known. Not a chance.

Just shy of the actual tug, Dixon’s entire body had twitched as if every fiber and nerve in his system had simultaneously caught on fire, the chair had rattled in cries as it toppled over onto the floor when the man had shot up and then all Rick could remember was that his fingers wasn’t touching anything anymore, the swift move of muscle and a fist that..

Aaron and Eric had told the rest of the story when he’d woken up at their place the day after. So yeah, the hit had been straight, coming from Daryl’s right tightly knitted fist and had been clean on impact. Judging from his splitting headache and, speaking of splits, a nasty cut in his eyebrow he’d felt throbbing, he wasn’t questioning the details they were relaying to him. Though, apparently the split in his eyebrow was a sincere send-off gift to lala-land from the table when Rick had dropped down on it after the fist had connected with his cheek bone, which yeah, also throbbed. To his comfort, they made him breakfast, fed him just enough food that he could hold down whenever he wasn’t rushed through a wave of nausea, kept fussing over him with ice packs being swapped left and right, treated him with pieces of cookies and coffee after having lunch, using the divided small meals to confirm that his stomach could handle it, and during it all, he’d been ordered to sit tight on the couch and not move around unless he needed a piss.

Either one of the two had always be present to talk to him and keep him awake, Aaron already having diagnosed him with a concussion thanks to his two years in med school before he’d taken his career in a different direction, and in with the aftermath in his hands, well they’d done a good job, neat and discreet without being too overbearing and smothering but not letting him get away with any shit either, like saying he was fine when he clearly wasn’t. Surprisingly, Rick had learned that day after an attempt to sweep his state under the rug that Eric was the one to be feared no matter how innocent he looked, shutting him down instantly and giving him a long and thoroughly painful lecture on why he shouldn’t do something as stupid as lie about how he felt if he was in pain, and in the end Rick had meekly apologized in shame and thanked Eric for worrying about him.

Daryl Dixon, proceeding on the story from the previous night, had apparently stumbled off on his own, completely ignoring Aaron who had he’d chased after the man while Eric had been busy panicking over Rick laying out cold on the floor of the bar. Aaron had lost the guy after a while, or more precisely, when talking to a block of cement that had refused to listen had him fed up on trying, he’d simply let the man go on his merry way with a frustrated sigh, deciding that it was better to focus on Rick and so he’d turned around and headed back to the bar, leaving Daryl to do whatever the fuck he wanted.

And shit.. they were pissed. They didn’t have to say it but Rick definitely picked up a thing or two in their tone whenever the name was mentioned. Aaron had left every hour and a half, been gone for two minutes before he’d come back and forcefully evened out the tight lines of his lips, purging himself from bitterness of what Rick suspected was yet another phone call not connecting. Eric too, maybe even more so than Aaron, but mainly, even though they felt bad about how things had ended and, for some reason blaming themselves that it had gotten out of hand, as if they should have known when they clearly hadn’t had a chance of doing so, they were just worried about him as much as they were about Rick.

Aaron had already calmed down and eased up on the phone calls when Eric had hit his peak. Rick had been there to witness it all; the food being butchered as Eric had started preparing dinner in oozing silence because, both Aaron and Eric, when Rick had suggested it was time he’d go home, had turned to him at the same time and forbidden him from leaving, voiced unified and leaving no room for discussion. He was to stay until morning at least and if he showed any signs of the mild concussion worsening, they’d pack him into their car and drive him straight to the hospital, but, at least from Aaron’s opinion, he didn’t feel worried that it would happen and so, they at least wanted to keep an eye on him over the night.

So accordingly to their agreement, Rick had stayed and finally been promoted from the couch to the kitchen table, taking his sweet ass time on the walk over because his muscles were singing of joy of being stretched, moving and kindling with blood. In their kitchen a while later, Aaron had walked up to Eric, voice starting soft, reminding him that he knew what their friend was like and that even if he hadn’t picked up a single phone call yet, there wasn’t any risk of him not showing up for work and when he did, Aaron promised he’d take care of it. This at least, finally let Eric’s shoulders sag in defeat and though the dinner didn’t turn out perfect like most of Eric’s cooking did, they had manage to save it from turning into a massacred bath of charcoal.

Daryl Dixon, had since then patched things up with Aaron. After some apologizes, guilt filled facial expressions and some proper conversation that suited the two of them as individuals, which for that matter seemed surreal in the head of Rick Grimes to even imagine, but apparently was perfectly doable if you were Aaron. Eric followed just after, told directly from Rick’s trusted source, namely the man himself. With a custom espresso extra caffeine with just a tiny flavor of hazelnut from Eric’s favorite coffee shop that Rick always stopped by to buy for his friend whenever he went for a spontaneous visit to dispatch, Rick got the current update on things. Though Eric apologized that Rick wouldn’t get more than Daryl apologizing to Aaron that he hit their friend and not saying it directly to the man himself, but that was fine with Rick, he was happy enough that things were good again, with the added promise of a warning if Rick was invited again when Daryl was coming along.

He did get more than that though, just the day after his chat with Eric the door to the station had slammed, sending a jolting shock of alert through the stillness of peace and Rick had caught sight of the man snapping his head around until he’d located Rick at his desk and stomped over. Rick wasn’t sure what he was supposed to think when the man was strung tightly enough to snap any given moment and he’d tensed when Daryl had shoved his hand into the bag he’d carried with him. Though obviously, it couldn’t be a weapon to finish the job since the bag would have been searched on his way inside but, it didn’t stop the thought from crossing his mind, it should have been searched, right? Not that the bottle he pulled out and slammed onto his desk gave the room any more of a relaxing sensation and he could only stare back, body tense and prepared to act.

 _“’m sorry fer fuckin’ shit up fer ye, Aaron ‘n Eric.”_ He’d said and Rick had frowned at the half assed apology that wasn’t even making the right point. Daryl hadn’t ruined his friendship with the guys so there was no point in apologizing for it, Daryl had fucking hit him while being drunk off his ass when Rick had tried to be nice. He’d glanced at the bottle of scotch, his stomach lurching just lightly enough that he could feel the aftertaste of _that_ evening in his mouth, that evening had been filled with scotch after all.

 _“And your best effort is to gift me that..”_ He’d said, looking back up at Daryl who didn’t look like it, but Rick could tell that his nerves were jumping beneath his skin, how he was detesting, no actually, hating every second of having to do this. Abraham popped out from nowhere and to Rick’s surprise, greeted the man.

“ _Daryl, fancy seeing your ass around here.”_ To which Daryl happily steered his attention way and notched his head.

 _“Sup Ford, slacking off s’usual?”_ Rick would probably have had his mouth hanging open if he hadn’t actively remind himself to keep it shut, never having expected that he knew one more person that seemed to be familiar with Daryl Dixon but then again, their jobs did run close to one another so it wasn’t exactly illogical that this would be the case. Ford cackled in the background, loud and booming, yapping something while he disappeared, always the one to drop the last say and quit when he was ahead.

 _“Whatever, jus’ fuckin’ take it ‘n be done with ‘t, ain’t their fault so’s don’ be weird with ‘em.”_ Rick kept quiet longer than he needed just to watch the man spew in his own ooze, glaring at him with obvious skepticism as if Daryl was couldn’t tell whether he would take the gift or not. Asshole deserved to squirm while Rick took his time, and Daryl was only squirming because he was worried Rick would distance himself from Aaron and Eric, thinking that they didn’t deserve that because of what he’d done, which was an assumption that was completely wrong and not even close to being on the right trail. Rick couldn’t help himself but think that Daryl Dixon was a fool in the simplest ways, and though he didn’t want to admit it, no doubt he kind of was a sweet one, despite the flaws that came along. So he snatched the bottle he never intended to drink, first off he didn’t even like scotch much, especially if he hadn’t had anything to drink before and second, because not only did it send him straight to the shit that had happened but it also clearly was more of a bribe and not an actual and honest apology to him in person.

 _“Good.”_ Daryl bit out and turned to leave in one swift step, only stopping when Rick spoke up, then standing halt still enough that Rick could tell that he was actually listening which was, maybe the first sincere action the man had offered him.

 _“I’d never do that to them you know, they’re good people.”_ Rick stated clearly and there was just the slightest of slump to Daryl’s shoulders. If Rick hadn’t seen the way the man had looked at his friends back at the bar drinking, he would never have been able to read that Daryl was well aware of that truth in his words at the small shift of muscles he’d witnessed.

 _And I can’t say I didn’t overstep something I didn’t know about, or if you were just too drunk to be aware of what you were doing._ Is what Rick would have told him if he’d stayed a little longer, if Daryl hadn’t made a complaining noise in the back of his throat like he was pestered the moment Rick tried to continue and brushed him off to silence before he hastily stalked off to most likely, to Rick’s guess, get as far away as possible in the shortest amount of time he could. ‘They’re good people’ had been all that had been needed for Daryl Dixon, anything else had been tauntingly irrelevant.

_Coward._

* * *

The body draped around his stirred and Rick stiffened, though he loosened the arm around his neck to ease some of the strain to hopefully make up for his immature behavior from before. Things since the fatal start of their relationship had gone better after Daryl had dropped of the scotch Rick still possessed, unopened and tucked away so he wouldn’t have to look at it. As by their promise, Aaron and Eric had given him a proper heads up if Daryl was going to join the night out and he’d politely declined the first two of those before he’d told himself that he needed to get over it, how stupid it was to let it prevent him from going out with his friends. He hated that they had to do the invitations in a manner of formality, with the refined smaller text in cursive, forgiving him instantly for declining but not wanting to leave him left out either. So by the third invitation he’d accepted and chuckled when Eric had frozen in time, only the small distant buzz of the line coming through the speaker of his phone before he repeated that he was definitely coming, still smiling of course because he could properly imagine the look on Eric’s face in front of him and it was adorable.

There were no more accidental or intentional fists meeting his face, whichever it had been the first time he still hadn’t figured out and Rick had worked his ass off not to hold any grudge toward the friend of his friends. Time, Rick would offer but the more they ended up together the less he felt like offering his patience of gaining something as genuine as the man shared with his friends and the less he was ignored, something that he’d once upon a time thought would be a good thing, the more they’d end up throwing snarky comments, bickering and practice the art of being rude, only growing worse rather than better over time. It was something that was becoming a well maintained normality between them and the worst part was that the more Rick was exposed to the foul behavior, the more tainted he became of it and eventually, he’d stooped low enough that he wasn’t any better than Daryl.

At least they hadn’t seriously fought with fists since, some tugs of shirts to display immature dominance, a few half attempts to strangle the other, putting heads into headlocks or slapping away the hand reaching for one’s booze in an attempt to steal and aggravate, but none of them were meant to do any actual harm in the end. In a way they did get along, at least some would say but if you asked the two of them, they’d glare and spit every rejection they could muster of said statement. Maybe, if it was getting along by shared hatred and distaste for one another, Rick could maybe agree.

Rick caught the shift of eyelids moving, though still closed, the eyes were moving beneath them and Daryl was making more mumbling noises. A few flakes of snow stuck to his lashes, making them appear that much darker and Rick winced at the sight.

“Maybe I better call Aaron.” Rick muttered, shifting his weight to keep this fucking piss drunk, former half -and now complete ragdoll from slumping down when he tried to reach for his phone. Forget a cab to send him home to sleep it off there, fuck, even if he did manage that it occurred to Rick that he didn’t know where Daryl lived and.. now that he thought about it, once way back when they’d called it a night after one of their drinking sessions, Aaron and Eric had taken the task of bringing Daryl home with them and Rick had teasingly asked them at the time, if they always pampered the man by looking after him instead of helping him back to his place. Back then the pair had shaken their heads with a deject that was hard to catch, Daryl’s weight draped Aaron as the man was already half asleep, much like Rick had him positioned right now, and they’d told Rick they always brought him with them because they didn’t know where he lived.

He supposed that things wouldn’t be different now, even if anyone of all people would know about it, wasn’t it only right that it’d be Aaron and Eric at this point, such a simple thing? But then it was Daryl Dixon and Rick’s other vivid memory from Aaron’s living room, his friend stuck on burgundy red and smooth texture sofa with a messy mop of hair in his lap preventing Aaron from moving. He could have of course, but he hadn’t minded, gently and softly stroking his fingers over the dark hair as if he knew it was what the man needed after falling sleep, seeking tucked warmth like a cat.

 _“What’s his deal anyway, why is he such an ass?”_ Rick had asked, three years late to gather up the balls enough. Aaron’s face was relaxed and they could both hear Eric cleaning up in the kitchen in the background, clinking sounds of glass and porcelain, metal from the cutlery somewhere in the bottom of the sink making dull clangs through the water.

 _“Perhaps there are plenty of reasons or perhaps there are few enough to count on one hand, we only know what we do, after all, he’s quite a private person, even with us.”_ Aaron had replied with carefully picked words, as if it was important to him that what he said was conveyed properly and Rick thought he got it; all things in good time and, that they would never ask something that would be difficult for the man to answer. Aaron had shifted his eyes up to Rick and watched him as he processed everything, had that disarming glint to them that spoke directly from his heart, his smile spread a bit wider as he was kind enough to spell everything out as clear as it could be.

 _“We love you just as much you know.”_ Aaron had said and Rick, yeah he knew they did, just as much.

Rick could almost feel the edge of his phone when his jacket was pulled and he shifted his attention to the hand that had weakly slid itself enough to get a weak grip beneath his collar. Yeah, Aaron was definitely his go-to guy at this level of hopelessness, this was definitely above Rick’s pay grade. So okay, new plan; drag the drunk ass back to the station while hopefully getting close to reach his phone again to call Aaron while they move, if Aaron doesn’t pick up you call him again later, if he still doesn’t pick up there’s perfectly good holding cells on the first floor, almost a hotel suite experience if your insides are soaked with as much alcohol as Daryl’s.

“Mhm.” Rick had to re-focus all of his senses to repeat the sound in his head, at first only appearing as a mumble but, something was missing and when it clicked into place, he shifted his eyes down onto the pale face and caught blurry blues peering through half lidded eyes. Something closer to actual consciousness was awakening and the only thing Rick heard his instincts tell him was leave his phone secured and safe in his pocket instead of reaching for it, the hand holding on to his jacket for dear life was asking him to stop and he didn’t even know how he understood that but he was warily sure that he did.

“Are you even aware of the position you’re in, of the position you’ve put me in, are you even aware of who I am? I mean if you don’t it’d be awkward having to remind you that you don’t actually like me very much.” Rick asked, or stated, both actually, more words required more focus and Daryl’s eyes visibly fought to keep open, peering up at him and Rick honest to god didn’t know if he was wrong, but the moment Daryl’s gaze held his own without slipping or shifting, everything else fell silent enough for Rick to hear the intake of breath before the sound formed for his ears to receive, and he asked himself whether or not this should horrify him or not.

“Rick.” Okay, terrified was completely fucking accurate and even though he’d been heating over beneath his clothes from struggling to pull this man up, sweating profoundly just before, his entire core was frosting as white as the snow around them. “Mhm” the mumble followed, sounding like a confirmation before Daryl once again, although weaker in a whisper, voiced his name, “Rick.”

Just like Rick had been taken aback before, never having seen Daryl like he had when he’d come across him in the trash, he’d never heard him quite like this either, as passive and.. well needy was the wrong word but, almost as if he was in a desperate search for something to put him back together. Rick thought of Daryl’s head in Aaron’s lap, how it wore similarities but this was overwhelmingly different all the same, because Daryl knew it was Rick.. he may be piss ass drunk but he knew and he wasn’t doing anything about it aside from calling his name.

_Normally you would go like, insulting me with words, you’d push against my chest to secure some distance, it’d hurt a little but you’ve stopped putting any real strength into it long ago. You’re violent and rude and you don’t have a filter, you constantly look for a chance to fight with me and you’ve ruined me to the point where I can’t stop myself from doing the same, you push my buttons and I happily lash right back, I anger and irritate beneath my skin, I don’t like it but it happens regardless. I’ve started pushing yours too, I’ve been reduced to trash because I get a sense of fulfillment whenever I manage to make you curse me out, I feel like we’re in this self destructive repeating circle of competition and I thrive in every win when I piss you off, when I get you to react strong enough for Eric to fret and panic, when his chair wobbles as he tries to get in between voicing his soft voice to calm us down. He does eventually succeed, even though we disagree on everything, when it comes to the two of them, we don’t. That’s why you wouldn’t disagree with me if I said that Eric possesses some kind of magic to be able to keep us from tearing one another apart. Still, I hate you, you hate me, I don’t want you to like me either at this point, you never wanted me to like you from the start._

_So this isn’t how it’s supposed to be, this isn’t our ‘normally’. So why, this late in the game, do I feel like you’ll crumble to dust if I let you go right now. Why, this late in the game do I feel that you’re well aware of that? Why do I feel like you’re not entirely on board with it either and why does my chest bleed in pains of crimson red when I can only think that there’s something that tells you there’s no other choice?_

_You should have, you do, there’s two of them waiting for you whenever you need them, so why.. this late in the game, are you looking at me like it can’t be anyone else. Not even them._

_Why does it hurt, not even knowing if I’m allowed to ask?_

_Oh.. I see, it’s my heart that is bleeding because of you, even though it shouldn’t because it doesn’t make sense, right?_

“Yeah.. I’m here.” Was the only thing he could conjure up, everything blurring together in a chaotic blinding mess, much like the snow packing itself together, at least the snow was pure, bright like a clear thought, sadly for Rick’s part, everything currently stirring inside of him, wasn’t. This was uncharted territory and there was no map or compass to help him through it. So his eyelids slid deeper without him knowing it, repeating the same words he’d just said in a murmur again as he shut every bit of knowledge that he had away, because none of that would help him one bit.

“’s cold.” Came Daryl’s voice, quiet and muffled, words being one thing left by the tongue, but received in Rick’s ear and state of mind as something else entirely, _it hurts._ Rick knows it does, not the reason why but he feels it too, transmitted through every fiber and received by every fiber, everything adjoined and confusing all the same. He abides without question, never plucking the phone from his pocket. Like the fall of the snowing white, he’d needed to drift through and he let whatever unknown part of him that that felt the pain inside, guide him.

Rick leaves himself free to what felt right, shifting them enough to softly tuck the grown man’s head toward his neck to settle beneath his chin, the old struggle of keeping them upright stabilized as Daryl’s weight now leaned onto him from the front and his free hand acted on its own, cold and stiff as it was now without any glove on it, he loosened his three times wrapped scarf over his head before he could wrap it around the both of them, securing them beneath the fabric that only lasted enough for two rounds when it was covering more than one neck. Heat slowly starts to gather in the nest beneath the scarf and Rick stands with his head just shy of tilting up to give Daryl the room he needs keep close, the man’s skin hungry for the warmth that Rick can give him. All the while Rick is at a loss on what to do, still waiting for his instincts to lead him along for the next step, it all was repeated, although shorted, but steadily, almost as if it had found the rhythm of their heartbeats- Daryl’s quiet whisper of _it’s cold_ and Rick’s inner voice translating it, _it hurts,_ over and over _._

“Who did you lose..?” He barely recognized his own voice when it came, after a few minutes that felt like eternity. It came out of nowhere, directed at no one really, though it should be, it’s just absent in its presence. The thought of what he’d said never passing through what little sense of mind that was still active. _It’s cold – It hurts_ , the words that may or may not have stopped themselves from being spoken out loud, but that had kept beating even if they had, the claws of them digging deep, refreshing the hurt whenever it dulled to a throb and so, this was where he’d arrived, this was the only thing he could reach. There’s a heavier and warmer exhale pressing against his skin, like the words he’d spoken stung and Daryl had breathed deep to pass through it.

“Let’s get you home, yea?” He softly spoke, never once stopping to ask himself about the consequences, never once stopping to reconsider, it’s what he needed to do right then and there. He could feel the way Daryl’s eyes pressed shut against his neck, beneath the scarf and the safety that it provided and pressed his forehead down, applying more pressure like he could disappear into the scar and no one would be the wiser. It actually gave Rick the first sense of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, both the image of it that played in his mind but also, because Daryl was a grown as man, large too, yet he acted like if he just wished for it enough it would happen.

“My home, I don’t even know where you live asshole.” He added, but it wasn’t only because he didn’t know where the man lived, the small tells he’d made after Rick had suggested it was enough. Daryl didn’t want to be in his own home right now, especially not alone, not that Rick had the heart currently to just dump him off but most of all, Rick thought he’d heard and seen through the push of a forehead and stinging slow exhale of a breath, there was something left back there that he didn’t want to go back to right now, no matter what.

The most eerie of a thing drenched around them, this entire fucking night, hurting, being utterly terrified, understanding more than he ever had when he shouldn’t have been able to, feeling the warmth that wasn’t his to possess, being allowed to borrow it for a moment and drape it around himself, his hand was freezing cold and his mitten was still on the ground next to the bag of trash where he’d left it to poke this guys cheek.

It was stupid, and partly bizarre and illogical, but the most eerie thing about it all was that, after Daryl had nodded in a meager agreement to his offer, but one that Rick thought would suffice when it did give the scarf they shared a tug at the back of his neck, and they had proceeded to confirm that Daryl could stand on his own decently enough, wobbling a little but not entirely losing his balance after detaching himself from Rick, the scarf sliding out of its double loop into a single one hanging helplessly between their necks before Rick had slid it off himself and wrapped it’s three laps worth of soft fabric around Daryl instead. Was; that it may have been hushed, mumbled and not particularly free from the clutches of the dark that lurked nearby, still, but for the first time since they’d known one another, they were the closest they’d ever been to having a normal fucking conversation, and even though the cold was supposed to seep in where the there now was no scarf protecting his neck, it still felt warm.

_“You good there?”  
“Mhm, I think so.”  
“You hungry? I can heat something up when we get there.”  
“’m good.”  
“You know Eric scolded me once, the first time we met and you hit me and I..”  
“Ye hit t’table in t’drop, I kno’.”  
“I did, know what he told me when I said I was fine?”  
“What.”  
“That it just hurts the ones that care for you.”  
“Ye don’ care tho, ‘s fine.”  
“Hm, I just may tonight.”  
“Gross”  
“Then you’re gross too aren’t you?”  
“Mhm, yer place ye?”  
“That’s what I said, I promise.”  
“...”  
  
_


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 is out and it's heavier, so be warned, kind of, I don't think I went too far anywhere but still, warnings warnings? I guess, just in case.  
> Hope you all enjoy it if you stuck around for this long ass addition to be posted, if you don't or aren't as you're reading, like with chapter one just dump it, no one wants you guys to waste time when you can read something that fits better to your tastes <3  
> Errors and brainfarts are sure to have evaded my read through and cleaning, hope you can survive them.

They ended up passing the entire walk back to Rick’s in whispered talk that wasn’t quite conversation but the most proper thing ever to be exchanged between the two of them without anger and frustration getting in the way. To Rick, the sound he loved so much had returned, free from his bitter and childish part of himself that had muffled it all out, every crunch of their steps had played it’s violin song once again to his ears, making the finger that connected with his unfairly warm.

Daryl had hesitated back there with the whole promise thing of course, looked at Rick when he’d forced his pinkie to bend because it was too cold to do it on its own and so, with a large knitted mitten clumsily wrapping over it, like a great reveal, what was left when said mitten was removed, was the little loop of his finger offered with the promise he’d made. Daryl had started at him in disbelief, accusingly so for the inner child that Rick was acting on, stumped, almost offended in a way but never the less, when Rick nudged his hand as if to ask him to stop being silly despite the fact that he was obviously very much the silly one himself, Daryl had ducked into the safety in the scarf and Rick had mused that he must have felt some sense of embarrassment.

His finger had remained in the air all the while Rick had taken his free covered one to adjust the final lap of the scarf around Daryl’s neck, doing so diligently through the frustration of how hard it was with the glove still on but never letting it become a hindrance. After all, as softly as he did it, it was all to buy time, time enough spent in its peculiar haze until eventually, he’d felt another link with his own. Rick had leaned back, satisfied with the tightly tucked new position of the scarf and made a single and brief, soft, yet firm shake to seal the pinkie swear but when he’d started to let go, his finger sliding just about so to slip free, the one that wasn’t his own had tightened to keep it from escaping. Daryl had still been hiding his face beneath the comfort of the scarf, cast downward and had then turned to the side but it was enough, nothing else had to be added and Rick had simply let their hands slide down between then, slack but connected, letting it remain despite the exposure to the cold and thus, they’d walked in the silence of the night.

Once they arrived at his apartment, Rick needed to tug Daryl through the door when the man’s feet had stuck themselves to his welcome home carpet, having seemingly reached some kind of doubt of his own but one step, stumbling forward seemed to do the trick. He helped the man out of his shoes and winced over the ice cold drenched wetness that met his fingers, laces frosting a shimmering white over the black beneath, making his decision easy for him, well that and because Daryl smelled of garbage too, but mainly because of the state the man’s clothes were in and the first thing he did after he finally managed to pull Daryl’s feet from the captive bastard leather items, was to steer them both straight for the shower, pushing Daryl along in front of him and turning the water on as soon he’d gotten both of them into the bathroom.

While the water was heating up Rick had plucked a spare towel from the cabinet and placed it on the sink, peeling a similarly sad state of a jacket off Daryl’s shoulders, stiff, cold and icy, well there was no fucking wonder why his skin had felt so chill was there? At least the man became more helpful than with the shoes, now that he could sit down on the toilet and let it happen, he’d probably caught the memo of a warm shower and had stretched his arms out as best as he could, adjusting them to ease the slide through the fabric. Rick left him briefly to grab him a change of clothes, well he’d wanted it to be briefly but he had to rummage around his closet longer than so to finally find a pair that would work. The two of them weren’t too different in height so really, anything would have been fine but Rick’s size would also be tight fitting and he had supposed that in a situation like this, it’d be more comfortable with something that didn’t stick to your skin like it wanted to strangle you and squeeze all your blood vessels dead in the process. He was pretty sure that they’d had enough of that already from their current clothing, Daryl especially.

When he came back to the bathroom after finding an old set of sweats that Shane must have forgotten at his place or, generously donated by misplacing the pair in Rick’s training bag, as such things happened from time to time because his friend was careless like that, he’d stilled in the doorway. Daryl had yet to hop into the shower, his jeans and t-shirt still on, sitting in the same spot on the toilet, but there was something else Rick was forced to savor without being aware of it. The soft stirring of a pale hand moving back and forth over the top of the scarf still looped all laps around, as if adjusting the airflow without letting any heat escape, eyes half lidded, again clouded in thicker daze as he slowly moved his head opposite of his hand, creating a comforting sense of friction from the movement as the fabric brushed over his nose.

It was entrancing, watching the hidden yet softly there ease playing over the man’s face at such a simple thing and when Daryl came back from wherever he’d been and peered up toward Rick he’d done nothing more than let his hand drop back into his lap. Rick had placed the clothes next to the towel before he’d reached over to start unwinding the scarf, the first loop slowly undid itself by his own measured care to take his time. It had felt strangely intimate, but then again, in their own twisted way, everything had since Daryl had looked at him and said his name, the moment that was supposed to have been the one where he realized just who was with him and gone about his normal ways to express his inability to exist in peace together, yet had not been.

There had been some protest, weakly through a broken off whine of exhaustion when Rick had gone for the second loop, the only thing that had allowed him to proceed to peel the thing off to get to the last lap had been Rick’s hushed promise that he could have it back later, that it wasn’t going anywhere and thus, the neck came free and he’d softly urged the man to take a shower while he would go prepare something to fill Daryl’s belly with, after he got a change of clothes for himself and maybe even a quick wipe down by wetting a hot towel in the sink.

It wasn’t about to be completely forgotten that technically, he was still on the clock and as much as he hated to admit it, he wouldn’t be surprised if the com had made plenty of noise but he just hadn’t heard it. But so far his phone hadn’t rung, that much he was certain of, which meant that least for him, things were still calm around the city. The microwave hums distantly in his kitchen in rhythm with the water falling down on tiles, dully reaching through the bathroom door while Rick ignores the chance to think about his situation, he doesn’t feel like it and sends Ford a text instead, regarding his whereabouts.

_To: Ford, Abraham  
Something came up while I was out, just letting you know I’m not gonna be back for the rest of the shift.  
Sent 03:02_

Rick’s phone dinged with the received message of a; _thumbs up_ icon shortly before the microwave chimed its own hymn of beeps. Only had two more hours on it anyway, he thought while he plucked the plate out and cut the lasagna with a knife and fork, ensuring that it’d be properly heated before he put it back in for two additional minutes, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, some things, after all, were more important. It was strange because, that very thing, was someone he’d been around for years yet never had been able to get along with and even with this, he wasn’t sure they did still, probably not, if anything this whole night felt like it’d been ripped from the calendar as some kind of exception and didn’t actually exist. But still, no matter how strange it was, Rick supposed if they’d rewind and gone again, nothing would have been any different, or, he wouldn’t have gone about any different, at least that much, no matter how many differences that chugged thorns constantly in their sides whenever they ended up together, he was sure of.

Much to his surprise, as Daryl sat eating the warm lasagna, stiffly so despite the warm shower and struggling with the motion of his fingers as well, Rick was stuck staring at one thing in particular. It wasn’t that the man’s hair was still dripping down, soaking the collar of the borrowed t-shirt in the process, it wasn’t the food smudging around his lips because the man was and always had been, a sloppy eater, and it was wasn’t how Daryl wiped said food off his mouth with the back of his hand before he discarded it on the borrowed sweats either, something that Rick, in any other circumstance never failed to wince at in disgust of such poor table manners.

No he was staring at the exposed skin sticking out, neck bare and still light in tone but coloring slowly, boosted by the hot shower to regain its normal shade. Rick would have expected Daryl, considering the entire exchange of removing the scarf, to have pulled it right back on for every single lap that it was worth as soon as he’d dried off enough to be satisfied. But he hadn’t and it must still be in the bathroom. He noted, that although the neck, especially at the front of it, around the juncture dipping behind the collar bone and stretching up toward your throat, was normally an area of smoother and more tender skin, but that Daryl’s, as he saw it, wasn’t. Pretty much everything about him seemed rough and worn to its texture right now, hands used to working, skin straining and hardening, but then again, Rick did suppose the equipment Daryl wore on a regular basis did make it more understandable. He wasn’t sure why he’d never properly noticed it, at best when they’d become physical enough to tear seams in their clothes when fighting he’d registered it somewhat, and then there had been the occasional glance at the move of an arm but that had been it, but he’d never actually properly looked at all the creases and tiny scars, of the dirt, ash and oil collecting in skin that never completely washed off and for a moment he felt partly ashamed, because Rick had never actually given the man credit enough for how hard he clearly worked.

A fearful thought, one only intoxicatingly influenced by the drunk fumes he’d breathed in so many of before, Rick rationalized as he sat at the table, as much affected by the whole strange comfort of their sphere too. Yet one that shifted his attention to the small pools collecting on the table because staring at a piece of skin and coming to scary realizations wasn’t something he should become aware of, they were supposed to just happen and pass along without gaining any more meaning, whatever it would be and perhaps, a part of him was aware that if he kept at it, his hand would be forced. Rick pushed up from the chair and padded back to the bathroom, found the scarf neatly folded in on the sink and he thought it completely uncharacteristic of the man he knew but then again, he didn’t actually know him did he? The surprise was a foreign shift in his chest, such a small piece of information when the towel lay just as neatly folded next to the scarf and, a short huffed chuckle he hadn’t expected left his breath when he saw the discarded clothes and how the man, as messy of an eater he was, had neatly piled his blacks below the basket for black and whites and put his colored t-shirt next to second basket. Aside from knowing everything about how good the man was at ruffling Rick’s feathers, it was obvious that he really didn’t know anything else and for the first time, he wasn’t entirely okay with that.

Picking a fresh towel from the cabinet, because one touch to the folded and used one was enough to know that it wouldn’t be much use anymore until it was dry again, Rick headed back to the kitchen were Daryl was sliding his thumb over the leftover juices on the plate before putting it into his mouth to not waste anything at all from the food he’d been given. Daryl’s eyes had warily followed Rick when he hadn’t sat back down at the table upon his arrival, as if an instinct had reacted to a break in pattern, instead Rick continued on around it and though he was supposed to be used to this kind of behavior, for the short time that everything had been different, being exposed to the old again put a notable dent in his step and hesitancy into his mind, actually considering that they were returning back to normal sooner than he may have expected and he’d get his ass kicked for being weird. It had been the twitch of Daryl’s body, the one that had always told Rick before that the last drop was about to fall and well, for a long time now he hadn’t exactly done much to avoid responding to the taunt of a immature fight, so he’d stopped with the towel in his hand, not entirely sure on what to do. Then Daryl’s eyes left him, shifted back down to the table despite the plate being empty with nothing for him there and the tension Rick had started twisting his muscles into, seeped in that muted moment of permission. The last step he needed to reach was taken before he knew it.

He hung the towel over Daryl’s head, knowing that it would bring him back into the illusion of a nestling hideout, much like the scarf had provided before. He didn’t dare think it openly in his head, but secretly and tucked away, he may have thought that yes, there was a risk to knowing, but perhaps even if just a little, maybe it was alright to be aware, that perhaps, while it was true that he didn’t know anything about this man, maybe it wasn’t entirely the truth between them. 

Rick softly motioned the dry towel over the mop of hair beneath it, soaking up the remaining excess of water that hadn’t managed to drip towards its final resting place in textile collar and wooden surface. He was pretty sure he was humming on something, a song from the radio perhaps or, a contagious tune that Aaron or Eric, or maybe Ford had infected him with. He doubted Shane to be the cause at the lack of a smack to his face, surely if he’d picked up any tune from Shane he’d have made Daryl’s ears bleed by now and paid the price for it.

“Were we always capable of this?” He asked despite knowing what the answer would be, doomed and buried six feet under long ago, never to breathe fresh air again and yet, he smiled before he even received it.

“No.” Short and dim, the voice fell into the same low tone as his humming, almost in perfect match, which made it all that much more fearful to hear. Because he must have picked up a Dixon dictionary somewhere along the road tonight, to expect that stutter of a breath that shouldn’t exist, inhaling when it wasn’t supposed to, a clear _no_ being spoken but something different being conveyed, _just for now._ He could be fine with that, he wasn’t going allow himself to grow attached to something that would be gone when the storm has passed, the winds may have calmed and shifted, but Rick knew they weren’t out of it yet, not when the towel covered mop pushed the back side of his skull against Rick’s stomach, resting softly against it while Rick continued to caress his ministrations, the pads of his fingers dulling through the fabric but reaching nonetheless.

“I suppose you’re right.” He replied in a hum, still thinking about nothing at all and a whole bunch of things all the same, focus half on the jumble of the two and half on his fingers steadily moving to the slow of a distant river somewhere, he wasn’t about to pick, he’d never been good at geography.

“Sleepy?” Rick asked when Daryl’s head started toppling along with every little pressure from the pads of Rick’s fingers, easily persuaded to bend toward even their smallest of commands. He wondered who the real child was, mentally swatting off that accusatory glare Daryl had pulled on him before that made itself appear from his memory bank, when Daryl mumbled his protests, trying to stabilize his head to prove a point he was failing miserably at. Rick leant forward, hovering above Daryl’s head to look at him while he peeled the towel back.

“You’re not convincing anyone you know.” He stated and watched as Daryl’s lip twitched in tired annoyance, the guy wasn’t ever agree to it, but he clearly knew Rick was right, tilting his head forward enough for Rick to believe was conceding before he pushed back hard enough to thump against Rick’s belly. Well, it didn’t exactly hurt and it wasn’t like he himself hadn’t acted on petty revenge earlier so, all was forgiven after a flick with his fingers toward Daryl’s forehead.

“Yeah.. just for now.” Rick complied and Daryl’s eyes fluttered to a close at the soft tone of his voice. Rick hadn’t even seen him lift his hand but it had caught one of Rick’s, holding it securely in place instead of letting him continue with his small movements. Rick felt the skull push harder back against his stomach, Daryl’s jaw set tightly clenched, biting tight as if the air he pulled down scraped at his throat and he was trying to endure it all, refusing to succumb and feel it for what it was.

“Just for now remember?” Rick hushed and tried to maintain his own sanity when those eyelids squeezed together, the tightness of his jaw shifting and biting down time after time, breath slipping through, cracking and shattering. But it was hard, close like this as they were he felt like the clutching pain was transferring itself straight into his belly where Daryl’s head was pushing back still, spreading like a disease in rushed waves, devouringly overwhelming and yet, just like the one beneath him putting him through all of this, Rick was refusing the urge to cry.

Neither of them ever did. The plate on the kitchen table remained neglected as well as the towel now draped over the chair, drying on its own but Rick would deal with both of those in the morning. He’d managed to coax Daryl over to the couch, the softness of it perhaps inviting enough for the man to get the sleep he so desperately needed, only to find himself right there next to him as if they suddenly weren’t two people who’d rather be at one end of the world each at all times. Daryl had his scarf again after a quick detour to the bathroom, nuzzling it in his own little world, tucked into Rick’s side when Rick was beginning to understand, looking at the man like this, desperately keeping himself awake and harvesting something from Rick by keeping himself pressed against him, Daryl hadn’t wanted to go _home_ and he didn’t want to _sleep_ either.

It didn’t even make any sense, he’d found the man already snoozing like a lowlife in a heap of trash bags, snow and freezing air, unless it actually.. kind of did. Rick wondered, if not the reckless choice of bedding, had been the only choice Daryl could make, the punishing kind that wouldn’t let him sleep soothingly and safe, a kind of sleep where nothing could haunt him and if it did manage to do so, it wouldn’t rob him of anything he held dear. It would be awakening to something fitting of that dark, a place he could navigate through, something that the man perhaps considered well deserved and suitable. In his home he’d be left lost with everything closing in, feeling trapped, in a way, but it was hard to say for sure and Rick could only assume to what he’d seen.

“Things are going back to normal tomorrow right?” He asked half clipped, unsure of what he expected to get in return this time, afraid almost, that maybe nothing would be quite the same again, that they couldn’t even fight like they were supposed to, sticking together despite not wanting to, all for the sake of the shared people they cared for. He wasn’t sure how Aaron and Eric would handle it if that didn’t exist anymore, for them to be just nothing at all.

“Mhm.” Was the mumble he received in return and it choked the air in his throat, sounding neither like agreement nor denial, in other words, the worst kind of answer he could have gotten.

“They will.” He openly decided, remembering that he’d already decided this a long time ago when he’d been gifted the shitty excuse of an apology and a bottle of scotch. _Never to them_ , and that was one unspoken promise he’d never break if he could stop it, so fuck it if he’d keep pushing Daryl with insults and taunts until the man eventually had to fire back, right? It’s what he was going to do, he’d push and poke and prod until the guy couldn’t help but explode and return everything back to normal. He turned his head, nudged the shoulder connecting with his to grab a hold Daryl’s attention, locking their eyes together he vowed.

 _“_ I’ll make sure they will.” Daryl seemed to stare at him for an eternity before his fingers dropped the scarf they’d been fiddling with since he’d gotten it back and Rick’s heart fell to close to a stop, he couldn’t hear the silent thump within, couldn’t feel the surging pulse beat the next step, there were just Daryl’s hands reaching over, cradling one side of his face each, fingers spreading evenly through his trimmed beard.

“Don’ look like that, don’ suit ye.” Rick didn’t.. wouldn’t, wasn’t, shit he must have had a horrible expression on his face to have those words spoken directly to him, to receive that soft warmth in blue eyes he’d never thought would be offered in his own direction and he had to remind himself harshly and as soon as he possibly could, again and again; _just for now, just for now._ Oh but he looked so serious, no wonder everything else seemed to disappear. _Stop. Don’t be kind to me. I can’t afford it._

“Mhm, that’s better.” Daryl murmured but Rick wouldn’t exactly agree. Not with the man’s thumbs on either side of his mouth pushing the corner of his lips upwards and holding the must be horrible forced smile in place. _Does this still count? It does doesn’t it? Because there’s something inside that’s smiling for real about it all, isn’t there?_ Rick surged an index finger into a hard poke in Daryl’s cheek.

“Like hell it is asshole.” He bites out while digging his finger deeper into the cheek and twisting it for good measure, weakening what looked to be a smug building smile on Daryl’s lips. Rick pulled with his neck, twisting it as best as he could to free himself from the thumbs but Daryl kept moving along with him. Wasn’t this guy seriously bummed out just before? Hadn’t everything been all intimate and fragile, well he was probably still drunk and at the heart of it all, Rick did prefer the relaxed features in Daryl’s fiber over what he’d seen before. _No, it’s still there, hiding in the depths._

Rick made a grab at both wrists to tear them off his face, holding them out into the air on either side before he mustered up the bravest smile he could to not.. _“look like that”_ and be the reason why Daryl was saying the things he did, to rob the man of having the same affect on himself. _Because I’m going to say it doesn’t suit you either, but I think that would make me a liar._ He felt it on his lips, it may have faltered off halfway from being complete, but the smile he put on his lips was still very much genuine.

“Look, I can do it myself, you happy now?” Rick wished for the smug smile to return the second it had disappeared. Daryl sat stock still and Rick’s hands had released the wrists on instinct at the sudden shift that had cut through between them. He couldn’t read that face at all, his stare wasn’t blank, but not completely present either and even though Rick had released the hands Daryl hadn’t lowered them and they were still hanging in the air. Wait.. his was too, now that he thought about it, just as frozen as the other pair, it all probably looked idiotic if you’d look at it from a distance.

There was some kind of process going on in the other that Rick couldn’t deduce, at best it looked like Daryl was trying to figure something out and was struggling to get there just as much. His arms slowly slacked from their frozen position before there was one hand that reached toward Rick, not much differently from when he’d placed his hands on either cheek to properly convey what he was going to say and making sure that Rick didn’t miss it. But this hand hadn’t stopped to rest there, instead he felt the pad of Daryl’s fingers gently lace themselves at the back of Rick’s neck and honestly, at the speed things were going he should have seen it coming and fuck, he actually had, yet the brush of lips, hesitatingly testing over his after Daryl had closed the meager distance between them, still came as a surprise to him.

“Makes me wanna try, I suppose.” Daryl said against Rick’s lips and he had to rewind to catch on, turn the shallow taste of alcohol on his lips around as it crawled into his senses, a look on his own face, the thumbs correcting it, Rick stubbornly pulling him off to create the real deal.. oh. It had held more weight than Rick would ever have thought, that he’d simply smiled toward the other in a moment like that. With Daryl being completely aware that his kindness was unfair and hurtfully cruel as much to himself as it was to Rick, but not knowing how else he was supposed to do things, as how it seemed designed to work just like that. _Ah.. He’s used to this.. living in it, enduring it, facing it, losing to it, repeating the same circle without anyone knowing shit about it._

 _Are you happy now?_ Oh for fucks sake, his arms were still locked out in the air. Quickly Rick corrected himself, removing his arms from the very awkward position and letting one of them rest in his lap but catching the five stray fingers that he didn’t own himself with the other, just barely so and unrestricting. _Does this count too then? Does this mean there’s at least one person who knows?_

Daryl dipped his lips in again, a bit firmer this time but just as gentle in the only way Daryl could be. Though fuck it if Rick even knew, he couldn’t possibly and yet, it was the only way he could describe it. Rick had deliberately not spoken or replied in any way, he’d just waited patiently, shifting his fingers every now and then over the ones they rested with, never shying himself away while he tasted a stronger spice of alcohol like this, with a lingering trace of old tobacco that Daryl must have smoked before he crashed in the trash. That itself, was his reply and Daryl must have, as Rick dared himself a better feel of the kiss, heard Rick’s inner voice, his lips felt like he had. _Did you figure out that I am starting to see you?_

Rick hadn’t paid much attention to sexuality in his time, he assumed Daryl wasn’t much different in his personality but neither were opposed, two of their closest friends male friends were lovers after all and neither ever shunned away from their displays of affection that they’d allowed themselves more intimately in the privacy of their homes. Nor had Rick at least, freaked out whenever a story involving some embarrassing and sexual twist to it, had been told in their company and he must admit, the longer he knew the couple the more attraction he’d accepted he could hold against another male. Daryl too, he supposed, Rick had never seen him different about it, cool as a cucumber. If it was a matter of getting used to the idea or something dormant snoozing awake in his own case? Well, it didn’t much matter to him which it was, assuming it could as very well had been nothing special at all.

Ah but there was that one time when he’d kissed Eric, after politely asking Aaron for permission of course, a playful pop of his eyebrows while being drunk following along with the question. He hadn’t actually anticipated that the pair would agree, but they’d shared a look between themselves before Aaron had shrugged and told him to go ahead. He’d been too caught up in himself to do anything but snapped right back to reality when Eric had pecked him innocently on the lips at first, then added a tender pressure that lingered for a few more seconds and Rick had thought it felt nice, melted somewhat and responded once with a soft brush before pulling away and nodding approvingly with a goofy drunk smile on his lips before the night continued on like normal.

As for currently, he was getting too caught up in the moment to ponder over those thoughts. Daryl was a good kisser once he’d reached the conclusion of wanting to feel more of Rick’s lips. Rick’s head was muzzling together, couldn’t even register booze, smoke or even his home made lasagna anymore, just from lips and the occasional tongue exploring, and that was the kicker wasn’t it? Daryl didn’t invade with his slick muscle, it never became too much because seriously, people were too intense in their bizarre urge to shove their tongue around someone else’s mouth. Rick would know, he’d been drunk in one establishment or another and ended up almost choking because of it, safe to say he wasn’t too fond of the whole tongue focused business because of that.

With Daryl, his entire body was starting to tingle, because it’d be the rare stroke of slick over his lip, almost making its appearance exotic and sought after. Not only providing their lips with moist to make the kisses all the more pleasant and protected, but also making him eager to respond with his own tongue on the occasions that Daryl did dip the muscle inside. He never tasted too long or sought too deep, rather he was carefully greedy and considerate, just the right kind of balance that was drawing Rick in as much as it made him _want_ to stay. This was a hunger to be sated as first priority, Rick was under no illusion that this was an act of comfort to first be dealt with against the bitter depth of shadows that had led everything to where it was. But along the way, through their interactions, words and ability to see and understand one another as best as they could, other elements had been implemented and neither inclined to pretend that they weren’t there. Bits and pieces of those particular needs, such like a moment of reassurance or a sudden crave for warm affection, would be borrowed into the _comfort_ , giving a differently tender touch against skin here or a thicker exhale when the feelings inside their chests intertwined there.

As they hungered and fed, that scale was shifting whenever they’d borrow or returned to one another, satiating every aspect that could fill. Rick’s fingers were touching bare skin, feeling the muscles move beneath on top of Daryl’s stomach, the fabric of his t-shirt making it into a task to be thorough with, to really feel everything he couldn’t see, everything he touched etching that much deeper into his senses. His neck was thrumming, heating worse than it had been when Daryl had let his breath hit it beneath the scarf back at the dumpster. Leaving kisses and fragile nibbles up to down and side to side, Rick could not but tilt his head back and let it devour his mind whole should it so wish to.

The couch, as they soon learned, was a fickle thing and not meant for two grown meant to grind into each other on, nor would Rick assume that it’d be a particularly good place to easily shift out of their pants, even if they both were wearing sweats. Daryl’s knee slipped down between the cushions when he climbed on top of Rick with what could only be such intent, and had needed to grab hold of the backrest right next to Rick’s head to prevent himself from toppling over, cursing beneath his breath as he did.

The deathlike grip and the mini-heart attack look of it all had Rick huff out a sudden laugh without being able to help himself, though, the way Daryl tried to hide his face away and not being able to at the same time, because apparently stabbing Rick with a sharp glare was more important than the former, was well worth it. It did however, also serve the purpose of being a perfectly sharp snap to diffuse the immense haze of desire and lust that had taken the reigns a while ago in a place that wasn’t good for a first time tumble.

“Common.” Rick had easily urged, pushing just enough to get Daryl up his feet and moving along with him at the same time.

“You sure about this?” He added, turning around the couch and halting for a moment, Daryl still in tow, his eyes reading and reading over every little telling expression but finding nothing to help him out. The tug at the bottom of his shirt however, gave him the answer he needed, discarding the piece while he proceeded to drag the man along into the bedroom. It was more likely that he should have asked himself that question, well not entirely if he wanted this or not, he knew he did but rather if he truly thought..

“Stop thinkin’ our friends tell their sex stuff all t’time so ‘t ain’t like ye’re clueless.” Daryl shut his brain up. If anyone had an easier time reading the other well, the answer to that question was probably quite obvious. But Rick was nothing but stubborn, be it less or more than Daryl Dixon he had yet to find out but at least, he quickly decided that he would get better given time, he’d learn to understand more of what he saw and he was already well on his way to get there in his own opinion, doing better than he had in all the years before, every small break through counting.

There was something else to what he said that Rick got stuck on, though before he could even begin to continue on that topic, the heavy mass of Daryl Dixon was crowding against him and Rick was no longer the one leading the charge. Rick couldn’t voice any complaints even if he’d wanted to for the hell of it and he wasn’t sure when Daryl had gone from freezing cold to the burning furnace now radiating straight onto Rick’s naked torso, he’d missed it entirely and despite how infuriatingly and maddening hot the burn was spreading over him, he could only shiver when all his senses were being reduced to fickle ash.

The back of his knees hit the familiar edge of his bed and he caught one of those _needs_ flashing behind the half closed lids in front of him, urgently wrapping his hand around Daryl’s neck to pull them close, to let his heart beat through his chest and further along into Daryl’s, pressed close as they were, breathing steadily and close until he eventually could feel when it was safe enough to sink their bodies down onto the bed, relishing in how Daryl tucked himself just as tight when they were laying down and the fact that Daryl may just have whispered _want you_. It struck his heart all too heavily for one single reason; how different it was to the echo of _makes me wanna try_ that had played in his head as a cruel reminder, and how that echo reflected on what kind of soul Daryl possessed, that he was probably someone that was more likely to deny himself the things he wanted rather than indulge in them, that he must have struggled until he’d managed to admit to himself that he wanted _this,_ had he really whispered it.

It occurred to Rick in that moment that Daryl wasn’t one to pick partners on a whim, clearly, not only if it was this hard for him to come around, to feel any kind of trust or need to at least try and express, to try and to want, but Rick had never heard of him dating anyone during the time he’d known him either. It made him conflicted, partly treasured for one but, just a bit shameful and selfish as well, since Rick had done nothing to earn this but find the man on accident while he was sleeping off the booze outside in the freezing cold. Though he supposed they shared time, a valuable factor even if it was filled with malice, hostile intent and declaration of constant war, after all, familiarity was in a sense, a kind of trust, it was just a matter on what kind of shape it took since it had so many forms to pick from.

The sheets were soft and clean, smelling freshly of wood anemone with a hint sacred lotus, a softener Lori had refused in the home they’d shared back when they’d been married because she had a thing for vanilla, playing it safe, that’s what he’d thought of that so when they had divorced, he’d bought his old favorite first thing. It mixed curiously with the scent of his own soap on Daryl’s body, coming off differently on him than it did on Rick at first, then transforming as it merged with the fresh laundry he’d put out before leaving for his shift. What could he say, he loved a pair of fresh sheets to sleep in after a night shift, the day one wasn’t as important though.

A strand of locks slid off his forehead by Daryl’s finger and Rick tried not to squirm at the exposure beneath those eyes, watching him intently and just, seeing, searching, anything he could. _Ah.. he’s asking himself for permission again_. Rick inhaled a deep breath, relaxing everything of his being and let Daryl’s eyes drink their fill before he allowed himself to suggest, by his own hand reaching up, that perhaps, Daryl didn’t have to decide alone. The pressure was almost nothing at all, just the set of Rick’s fingers against the warm bare skin of the side of Daryl’s neck but he was confident the message was getting across, as slowly as it needed to be passed. Rick’s hand followed the motion as Daryl dipped his head down, gently assisting him in place for Rick to meet his lips, tender and calmly, Rick received the answer; _I can want this_.

He selfishly kept him in place when Daryl was about to pull back, steeling a couple of more kisses for his own greed while snaking his other arm around the waist, going for sensual but accidently ending up moaning when he’d pulled Daryl’s crotch over his own to snuggle them closer. They’d probably both softened at least some in their pants since the building arousal they’d started on the couch, but even so the reasons for that, was worth the wait and would be again, though now Rick at least was filling back up properly, especially when Daryl, almost reflecting his evil side from their past in bed with him, repeated the motion for a couple of runs, exploring the feel of it since the couch had so cruelly forbidden them(or you know, just bad positioning but no time to ponder that).

Daryl didn’t stop to question himself again. But it didn’t go unnoticed how he hesitated when Rick wanted his t-shirt off in the - _and I want it off now! -_ kind of manner, a rough tug on the piece after craving more contact, more skin to skin friction had the man freeze up. Rick dismissed himself swiftly, thumbing over the hip bone since it was conveniently close by and feeling for the sake of not paying that chill pause any mind, maybe rutting upward toward Daryl while he was at it. Blood was rushing, breaths were speeding, it was hard to tell aside from it being distracting and dangerously effective. The following sharp pain to his shoulder clawed a yelp from his throat before it spread within a lingering area close by to the perfect set of teeth left behind on his skin. He didn’t think it drew blood, but they would definitely show for a while with the way every mark of teeth were currently pulsing and throbbing, forcing Rick to bite his jaws together and breathe through his nose. He nearly choked himself on his own pain maintenance when Daryl raptly shifted, straightening his back in one single move, startling Rick with the sudden realization of why he’d moved. He was grabbing at his t-shirt, moving it up over his body and his directing his head through along with his arms, and to Rick’s best guess as the piece was thrown to the side, if he dared making one without being actually eaten, Daryl had hit an internal barrier that he’d wanted to get past, had struggled to overcome it and when he hadn’t known how to, he must have acted on instinct to subdue the overwhelming surge inside, the bite of his teeth on Rick’s skin becoming something to push him through and find whatever piece of courage he needed to go through with it, maybe claiming a price in return, maybe.

There was a pregnant pause afterwards, with an uncomfortable and prominently reluctant allowance to digest the moment to its fullest but, one that was there nonetheless, if only stubbornly so as eyes peered down heavily onto him. The room was darkly dim still, it was in the middle of the night after all, with only the vague city lights sneaking in through the window, giving them just enough vision to safely navigate and explore together now that their eyes had started adjusting. He’d just safely in time caught himself from touching just yet, understanding that there as an underlying need for that to wait. There was never a moment where he stared anywhere in specific and everything he saw was while he watched the entire man, maintaining him as whole and not a fragment here and there.

The entire left side, stretching from hip to armpit, reaching out just enough on his chest and abdomen, was filtered in different shades and structure, thicker or lighter, marking out the unevenness of the skin, rougher in a few areas, the aftermath of fire feeding on skin evident on Daryl’s body and Rick thought it down to pure dumb luck that he’d touched on the right side and remained completely unaware before. From the clutter ending at the hem of the sweats, it looked as if it continued down the leg, but it was hard to tell how far and honestly, as Rick didn’t miss, nor particularly searched, the other scattered shades of scars, with some added bruising, in different sizes and shapes, some with a bitter taste of hurt to them and others from regular wear and tear of living through your years of circumstances, it wasn’t any priority of his to find out.

Rick didn’t think too much after his head had filled to the brim, just pounced up in an attack to twist the two of them around and steal the upper hand, easing up on the force when Daryl had winced and sucked in a sharp breath, remembering that the man was hurt even if he seemed to like pretending that his body was fine. So Rick smiled a with a teasing curve to his lips in victory at the startled, almost innocent look in Daryl’s eyes when the pain had subsided, all the while his thumb spoke a different, tender and nurturing language, brushing over the man’s cheek to mend the strain of moving around, giving him a moment for it to settle. For a second Rick thought Daryl wanted to accuse him of cheating for his two sided conveyance at once, instead of picking one of them, but he never did, even though the word _unfair_ was written all over his face. And yeah, Rick supposed he could be fine with that, even if it wasn’t particularly true, just as much as it wasn’t particularly wrong either, but he’d accept the role for now, as well as admit that it may just be exciting him a little bit.

He’d brought it all onto himself and yet, he was cursing under his breath like it hadn’t been his own doing from the start, one teasing suggestion of Rick placing Daryl’s hand to touch him on his chest had been his complete fall into madness. The idea had been playfully spontaneous, partly because he had faith in his leveled appreciation to be touched, never one to be thoroughly lost to it. He enjoyed it yes, but he wasn’t normally sensitive enough to be engulfed by it and he thought of touching as something merely additional to the act of intimacy. Now though, he couldn’t be sure that Daryl’s marred skin that had since long healed, wasn’t still burning, growing in hunger and spreading its flames onto him in the raw possessive and frightening greed to consume and devour Rick in the only way fire could. He felt alight with heat, swore to god that he saw that skin beneath him glow its flickering orange too, having severely underestimated what was happening and neglecting the fact that sometimes, things weren’t like they normally would be.

The tight fingers curling around his dick right about now may something to do with it, but Rick wasn’t dumb enough to even try and deny that the trail where that hand had traveled before it reached his member wasn’t still unbearably hot in cinders and he probably wouldn’t have been as lost to the pleasure as he was if his skin wasn’t still singing from it. Daryl had touched and Rick had _felt_ , he’d thrived at the sensation beneath those fingers as they’d moved over his skin, lingering on the occasional bones or tracing a particular muscle with a frightening precise attention and touch of tender care. Rick had shivered at that, once again stunned that something so heated could rattle his core with its opposite element, and he’d found himself lustfully, almost impatiently, anticipating the sensation to come when Daryl had eased up by flattening his fingers out on Rick’s belly, letting them lazily slide down just so for Rick’s breath to have caught in his throat, as if Daryl had cruelly known perfectly fine what kind of torture he was dishing or, simply because he was too lost himself that he could do nothing but desperately preserve everything he felt by touch.

They had, in an unspoken mutual agreement, not said another word after that. Giving in to what they wanted and urged for, Rick’s anticipation finally crashing through his nerves when Daryl had slid those fingers the remaining distance and crawled beneath the sweats, circling them achingly slow around his hard member but drawing out an all the more intense sighing groan from Rick. In hindsight, well, he supposed that he’d need to re-evaluate the essence of touch and how it could build into something so consuming when you let yourself feel truly feel it.

The pace was slow and thorough, as pleasurable as it was agonizing. The bitter sweetness was a cleverly built mask over the bliss igniting in sparks behind it. Strokes of thoughtfulness invading every cell in Rick’s brain, learning and responding by perfecting just the right pressure of grip, stride of the slide and curl of fingertips. Rick forcefully pried open the eyes that had sworn themselves to darkness as he’d lost his mind to the pleasure, cock leaking and twitching in its entrapment, feeling for a short second, greedy and selfish but forgetting all about it when he caught sight of Daryl’s focused gaze, glazed over and lusting as it took in everything Rick unknowingly showed.

There was a pleasure of its own in giving, Rick was well aware of this and, had thought himself to know it all too well as he himself, cherished the act of doing so. But knowing so did little to stop the impact on how naïve he’d felt himself to have been, forced to realize he’d never really stopped to properly ask himself as to why he enjoyed it so much and he wondered, if only for a moment, if he too, had ever looked as raw and beautiful with a single minded focus like that shading entrancingly in his eyes, if he too, had ever eaten every slipped stutter or breath or uncontrolled quiver of lips like it was his last meal before the end, and he’d wondered, if not he too, had ever voiced his essence in the very calm, yet alluringly fierce voice of soothing silence, as the man beneath him did in that very moment. He couldn’t ever hope to answer if he ever had as he was, because he would not be the one knowing such a thing, not truly and perhaps, he would have been able to, if he hadn’t taken it all too lightly and partially blinded himself into a foolish belief in the process, for surely, if you could truly see it, then you would be able to feel it in your heart. At least, as Rick felt himself make the stop he’d passed by so many times, he thought he was beginning to understand what it was really like.

Rick didn’t change the current pace because of the need to give back, he simply couldn’t stop himself after his little revelation and was for the life of him, unable to resist forcing himself impossibly closer to the body beneath him. He felt the shake of a breath pass next to his ear, Daryl’s hand halting for a moment on his hard member when Rick slid his own into the confinement of the other’s sweats, humming contently at the weight he’d taken in his hand. Well, at least there was two more things he could accept himself to agree with Daryl Dixon on, one, aside from having a dick of his own, Aaron and Eric did tell their sex stories enough for him to be confident that they could definitely figure things out, the biting moan passing past Daryl’s lips spiking through his spine like an avalanche was enough proof of that and Rick had sworn that at the end of it all, he would change that bitten sound to something completely unrestrained instead, and two, though the man had yet to agree to it, Rick believed there would no doubt be a lot more things to agree on going forward from here, there had to be. 

The first of Rick’s little innocent prediction had been that the pants were getting in the fucking way and their patience, however good it was at enduring and savoring the slow tease of strokes along with the taste one another’s hushed moans, it could only last so long. The sad garments didn’t get any better treatment than the t-shirts, roughly torn off and tossed unceremoniously in whatever direction that was available at the time, boxers added to the mix while they were at it. Completely and utterly stark naked as they now were sitting up again, both seemed to allow themselves the luxury of taking it all in anew and Rick dared himself the touch against the marred expanse of damaged skin, feather light whenever the shades grew darker on the torso, unable to know if it was thickness of repair or the bruising aftermath of whatever Daryl had been up to before Rick had found him swelling the skin a size larger. It shifted beneath his fingers, pulling just shy on instinct but not retreating and as he continued, the texture spread unevenly against his pads, changing in the differences of tissue, feeling every crease with an all so soft touch but most of all, he felt the squeeze in his heart that he wasn’t prevented to do this.

Though it probably put some level of discomfort forth, Daryl let Rick take his time and because of that, Rick didn’t take the time he would have actually have wanted, settling his hands caressingly on a hip and cheek instead, leaning in for a kiss that managed to taste sweeter than it had before and Rick felt as if there was a silent exchange of gratitude to Rick’s choice being whispered in the lips that kissed him back. He was actually pretty sure that’s what it was when Daryl managed to ease himself into Rick’s lap while he was distracted, pressing his hips just enough down for a new wave of arousal to rush through his body as their cocks brushed together, remembering clearly that they were very much still hard and waiting. He pressed his fingers tighter into the hip while he rocked upward, receiving another wave at the repeated friction as there was a touch to his hand, Daryl’s fingers lacing themselves over Rick’s to sweep them away like an ocean stealing what it could. He didn’t take them far, just off the hip before pushing with his own fingers on top of Rick’s, using them to squeeze at the softer piece of flesh located there, exhaling heavily while he enjoyed the pressure.

Rick got the memo, somewhat, he too, seemed to rather liked squeezing and digging his fingers into the side of Daryl’s ass thank you very much, but he also sprung a different initiative freely in his hunger and was sliding his hand behind and just enough to reach the back of Daryl’s waist, mirroring his one hand with the other on the opposite side to apply a pressuring pull toward himself, using his hands all the same to lead the motion in a half circle of a grind. He got a mixture of gifts in return, a groan slipping out halfway before Daryl clenched his jaw to stifle it into a mutter, a ten piece collection of new marks from blunt fingernails that he’d have to check in the mirror come morn and a sharp sting to his scalp as Daryl forced his way between the curls to yank his head back. But the thing was, Daryl didn’t stop following the movement, and that made it all the more arousing.

The grind of hips and cocks pushing together was overtaking his mind, feeling, touching enjoying, the pleasure sparking through his spine in pricks and small explosions. A silent part of him relished in the fact that Daryl’s hand still clutched to his hair, perhaps not pulling anymore but still holding it tightly and he knew that maybe, he had to question himself about having a fetish, or come to terms with the very likely possibility that it was all because of who was doing it. When he’d become so lost into this person when they’d been the worst of enemies just prior to the night and would be again after, he didn’t think he could ever pinpoint. But he wasn’t rejecting the idea of accepting it, wasn’t trying to ignore it was there, and as suddenly as he loved of how the feeling rushed over him, he also daringly admitted to himself that he wanted this man, with the past that wasn’t his own and the one that they shared together, everything.

Even though the rush was hard to break free from, he managed to get himself to stretch over and fumble with the bedside drawer long enough to get it open, not that it was much smoother sailing after that and he banged the top of his hand toward the inner roof when Daryl shifted in his lap, momentarily confused before Rick caught hold of the bottle and condoms he had stashed there and seemed to get what he was going for. At least Daryl notched an eyebrow, seemingly impressed that he even had some, though the condoms were probably expected, lube may not always be. But hey, he liked to have some every now and then when he jerked off in his sad loneliness, either way at least a part of him knew that he may be going crazy, having reminded himself of _sex-stories_ and fumbled embarrassingly clumsy for lube because of it, but fuck crazy or not crazy in the end, he fucking _wanted this man_.

The little packages of offerings had halted to a stop when he pushed them into Daryl’s hand. Even though Rick thought he’d been pretty clear with how he wanted to proceed, that he wanted VIP exclusive tour, he was rendered defenseless at a soft and gentle smile in return and felt the fingers that curled his own back over the offering and.. _oh.. oh._ It dawned on him what he’d gotten stuck on before and his eyes widened, Daryl already had experience. Rick had a hard time coming to terms with it, felt a sharp cut of what he wasn’t going to admit to be just a little bit of jealousy just yet, because jealousy wouldn’t make much sense now would it, maybe later, through his chest. He couldn’t see it, had never heard of it but then again, was that really all too surprising that he hadn’t known? “ _After all, he’s quite the private person, even with us_.”

It wasn’t, it wasn’t at all.

As if apologizing to Rick even though he didn’t have to, Daryl had placed a hesitant kiss on Rick’s lips, conveying well and clear enough that they could stop, anytime he wanted and Daryl wouldn’t hold it against him. It was all entirely uncalled for and why did he have to look like that, suddenly so small and insecure above him, _ah, doesn’t suit him one bit._ The reason behind those blue’s that Rick could see, that’s not what he’d had hung his head up on, he didn’t _not_ want this anymore, he’d just..

“You’re an asshole.” Rick broke the silence they’ve shared since they’d moved to the bedroom, dropping the offerings that had been suggested to be of better use in his own possession and surged for attack of hands and fingers pulling and pushing at skin, thumbs and index fingers assaulting that face in front of him and steering it in a better direction more to his liking, having his way until he was satisfied enough to stare straight back into Daryl’s confused eyes, plastered held in place smile set beneath Rick’s thumbs

 _“Mhm, that’s better.”_ He softly spoke, mimicking the man’s own words. Fine, he hadn’t been that rough in the end, he’d just pretended to make it more dramatic and his thumbs were pushing just enough to poke those corners up into an.. awful but _perfect_ smile. Naked as they were, dicks well, present and standing attention, Rick thought that it’d be one night he’d never forget, especially not when Daryl slumped like he melted into a puddle, chuckling softly and whispered into the air between them.

“Like hell ‘t is asshole.”

There was never any real confirmation or test to the question of experience. Though Daryl surely had some, adjusting Rick and giving him a nudge here or there, showing him how to use his fingers to prepare him, when to add another, measuring the right amount of slick, he didn’t actually seemed too used to it in the end. Or more like, not that Rick was thinking about it too much, Daryl panting over his shoulder as he moved his fingers, just having inserted a second one inside was far too distracting, but it was more like.. he couldn’t be having this kind of sex on a regular basis, nor did it look like he was used to a setting such as theirs, shuddering partly because he was being stretched but, it also mainly happened whenever Rick pressed his lips onto his skin or tilted his head to rest against Daryl’s. After all, there was a difference to _being fucked_ and.. he wasn’t going to say make love even though it looked more like that, Rick wanted to keep any big _L_ words out of it for now, for both of their sakes, _having_ _sex._ Hold on, forever, keep it out forever, yeah that sounded more right to him.

What mattered most was Daryl’s flustered face every chance Rick caught a glance on it, the man was shying away and hiding himself by clutching his body tightly to Rick’s, trying to keep his hips from moving but every now and then, he’d push even the tiniest amount onto Rick’s fingers and every time he did his lips would part just a little bit more. It was taking anything Rick had left to not rush, making him impatient, making his cock throb in its neglected state. But Rick listened to the gasps and tried to focus on that, let it drown him as he felt the body in his embrace twitch, the raspy little escapees a magical thing and he thought of snow crunching beneath his boots, deciding that fine, he’d permit one _L_ word to pass safely because yeah.. he loved this sound too.

The shower and Rick’s impromptu wipe down had gone to waste as sweat plastered their hair to their faces, sticking their skin together but at least they weren’t soaking down, though they probably would eventually. Rick had barely started stretching him with three fingers when he’d drawn out a dark and thick, but almost whining sound from Daryl at the experimental curling twist of his digits. It made him all the more focused to see for himself what their shared friends had been talking about, how sex between men could be as good as they described it, if Daryl was any visual and aural proof to that right now. He’d never doubted them, like he hadn’t with much else, he just hadn’t paid it much attention since he hadn’t thought he’d ever try it, although admittedly, he’d never ruled out the possibility that he would either.

As Daryl pushed his hips down to seek the sensation out again, Rick found it difficult to maneuver with three digits and counter the push of hips along with it, so he’d slipped one finger out for better dexterity and managed to properly massage with two the way it seemed to feel good and pleasurable, after all, right now it didn’t seem to be much about stretching him open as conjuring something that set the man’s nerves on fire. He was raptly pulled out of some daze he’d been lost in, Daryl looking almost wrecked and Rick got the feeling that he must have missed the last minute or two engrossed at the sight before him, how that was even possible, he didn’t know.

“Beautiful.” Daryl had mumbled so quiet Rick almost didn’t catch it, kissing his lips once before he leaned back again to behold, his cheeks still flushing furiously with blood and his eyes lay half lidded, slack and Rick had to hold his breath, didn’t know why, he just had to and his life may have depended on it. With a simple tug of an arm wrapping itself through his defense, in the standstill of observation and nothing at all, Rick toppled forward when Daryl pulled him along for the fall, planting his hands quickly on either side of Daryl’s shoulders when the man’s back hit the bed, barely catching himself to avoid falling completely over him but even if he hadn’t, it didn’t look like Daryl would have minded and either was fine with him, intention leaning more toward having shucking out one leg to create space before making the pull of Rick’s hips to get them closer again. The invitation sat between them in proper format with his name spelled out in large letters and he had to swat his hand two times extra in the area where he’d left the condoms before he found them, but he did, less clumsy as the incident with the drawer too but, there was some room for improvement.

When his own pulse drowned out anything that wasn’t a noise either of them made, when it hammered strong enough in his chest Rick that made wonder for a second that it’d break at the next thrum, he realized he’d never been this nervous before sex. There was no maybe or long drawn out process to reach a conclusion, it was just simple, _never._ He was sure of that.

The pressure swallowed him whole once he’d managed to get the damn rubber thing on with shaky fingers and aligned himself to push, slowly nudging the head of his cock inside, the pressure suffocating him of every breath he was supposed to take while pushing, until he was sheathed fully and could finally get that one deep breath of air into his lungs. He was pretty sure he would have repeated something Aaron and Eric had told him about sex again in his head, if he hadn’t stopped himself, knowing he wouldn’t have been able to form whatever words they’d said or those which he felt himself, into anything coherent. The heat covered around his dick, at every direction, hauntingly close to a threatening vow to never let go, then it spread, pooling all around his groin before it broke free and started infuriatingly seeping further in all directions it could take, and even those it shouldn’t have been able to.

The hunger only grew because someone else was starving him and Rick supposed, that it went just as much the other way around, a push of leg, a pull on his shoulder, pain long since forgotten and desperately ignored, lips pursing themselves before parting, repeating over and over since there was no way to remain, only to be and continue on. So he moved, slowly adjusting himself to the feeling, and Daryl to the feeling of him, even though his mind was drawing 99% of blanks there seemed to be one preserved piece of percentage that was considerate, one that he didn’t think would ever disappear no matter how far his mind went.

As the pace built, with steady thrusts moving firmer, their treatment of one another grew rougher, manipulated by pleasure blinded madness. Rick had snapped his hips uncontrollably when Daryl had tugged at his hair once again, settling himself deeper than he had yet and Daryl had lost his ability to bite down, letting out a broken moan, unhindered by his need to stifle it and Rick forgot to even take notice on how his vow had come true at this point. Though they grew rougher, they never hurt, always just pacing the tightrope of balance that hung between the two, as much as they shifted from the harder urges and the soft ones. A bite or strong thrust could be followed by a brush of a thumb or a surrender of your own choosing, sometimes repeating itself, sometimes there were more soft than rough and other times the opposite. They didn’t possess a pattern to what they were doing, not like this, just acting as they wanted in the moment they wanted it, be it taking something or giving it, could be either of the two. _Borrowing, returning_.

Rick felt his pleasure building rapidly, cock twitching eagerly as it pushed and pulled, like a switch had been flicked out of nowhere with no warning it had spiked and caught him off guard considering he’d been managing himself a steady build so far. Daryl wasn’t even doing anything in particular aside from holding on with any limb he could, holding tight and tasting the sweat prickling at Rick’s neck with his tongue, his breath warm and consistent at skin there just below his jaw, rhythmic to the thrust of Rick’s hips. It was almost too consistent, like controlled deep intakes to catch his breath and his eyes had closed to a shut, body slowly relaxing and Rick suddenly looked down to find that he had, sometime during his haze of pleasure grabbed a hold of Daryl’s cock and jerked him, hopefully in time with his thrusts if he was going to get any credit later of his skills. There was slick on the man’s stomach, spent as Daryl apparently was and then, when Rick looked back up there was a teasingly smug, yet blissed out smile resting on his lips. Rick had missed it all, even failed to realize that his pleasure had spiked because Daryl had been tightening around dick when he’d climaxed, not even having the fucking decency to give Rick a warning that he was close, it annoyed him because if he forced to think about it, he’d really wanted to see that face as everything broke loose.

Rick caught the traces of some teeth tauntingly showing themselves between those lips as Daryl kept smiling, seemingly getting his breathing under control until Rick reached for the leg the older man had hooked behind his waist and propped it up on his shoulder, changing the angle as he thrust in again. Smiling like that, the bastard knew, hadn’t missed a beat and Rick swore this asshole was very much still a fucking asshole, just.. a smaller one alright? So the yelp and strangled sound from Daryl’s throat at the new alignment surged pleasantly through him, pulling almost all the way out before he pushed back in and though he knew he wouldn’t last much longer like this, he could still do it a couple of more times, thrusting at the snap of skin, fucking Daryl into the bed to his heart’s content.

Rick couldn’t find any part of him to feel cruel about it either, even if maybe, he was supposed to, but that smile below him remained while he thrust himself to the edge, every pleasurable slide of his cock tightening that coil strung deep in his gut, gripping harder into the leg he held on to as he balanced on top of his peak, he may have taken a nibble somewhere, he couldn’t say, and most of all, that smile looked to have wanted him to let go just as much. The only difference between the two of them was that when Rick felt the edge strike him that piercing deep -one shot, one kill -hit of release, he caught Daryl’s eyes showing through those slits, watching Rick as he came undone above him, that he’d done to do the very thing Rick had wanted to do himself.

There was something about that which had Rick shift his weight as carefully as he could, trying his best not to wreck himself in the process because god knows he would have and he wants to think it has something to do with the way his arm trembles as it tries to carry the weight he’s been fighting to keep up. With breaths heaving through parted lips, he’s wills for them to still as best as he can, for his pulse to settle too, it hammers inside all too loud with every beat of it traveling in echoes along the shudders of aftershock like the two are lifelong companions meant to be, ripping at every nerve and fiber in pleasuring sparks, reaching far and unforgiving.

The truth however, is a different story entirely, he realizes what he’s trying to do when his free hand starts reaching for those blues and the way their gaze seems to wind him down and snare him tight, with shit all consideration for the fact that Rick is still the one on top, he’s trapped beneath and he can’t break away. Even if he doesn’t want to admit it, he can’t escape how exposed he feels in that moment, maybe just a little embarrassed too, feels his skin prickle at being stripped bare every second longer it takes from him to reach those eyes and cover them with his hand and shield himself away, knows that if he doesn’t prevent the man from stealing more than he’s already taking, Daryl’s going to reach bones, pick them clean and reveal every shade of Rick into light and he needs to hide, to drape that ocean prison into darkness before he’s left completely bare.

He’s just shy enough to touch when there’s something raw and fragile shimmering beneath that he’s sure he saw, though fleeting there’s no doubt about it and for that single second he feels like an idiot for fretting, after all, things were different and so, weren’t they allowed this? Rick’s unspoken answer to that question came through a shift of that same hand, a small tilt instead of becoming the makeshift of a curtain and his fingers curling in perfect half moons to brush the damp hair that had stuck to Daryl’s face while Rick allows himself a good couple of seconds to look, properly so without any self awareness getting in the way, and maybe, he was also admitting that he’d been quite the fool to assume he was the only one affected by it all, his own excuses to right himself aside, it wasn’t like he hadn’t been staring just as much was it?

He thinks it’s a shame regardless, what a perfect moment that would have been to come to whatever senses he was supposed to have, to ask himself if he realized what he was doing or to even transform his exposure into a more familiar spark of irritation that this man was so infuriatingly capable of igniting. Such an act, rather than the rattling self awareness he’d gotten shoved down his throat enough to constrict his breathing, would have suited better for their normal childish need for competition, to call out foul play in the last lap and yet, Rick can only rejoice on how little any of that matters when he completely lets himself cave into the moment and leans down, claiming himself lips in half an apology because well, it’s a bit late now, but better late than never right, he’s past pretending he hadn’t stripped the man just as bare, even if he hadn’t been aware.

It fits him in a perfect pressure to his lips, all calm and sated but no less warm, in fact Rick already misses it already when he’s about to pull away, never having intended to draw it out and he happily sighs back in when he’s not allowed further away, a hand at the side of his head giving him a just enough gentle nudge to steal themselves a few more before he can, although now he does with more reluctance than before. His chest is warm, well much of everything of himself is and Daryl is a fucking furnace, skin flushing dark shades of red in the bare light that Rick thanks fuck all that his eyes have adjusted to it so that he can have a chance to see this.

The soft lull of satisfaction draped itself around them soon enough, through sweat and half sticky sheets Rick had carefully detached his spent self from Daryl and only left the bed long enough to discard the used piece of rubber, made sure to clean himself up with the first available article of clothing from the floor too. He’d just been about to offer it to Daryl, turning around as he opened his mouth only to find the man’s back already turned toward him and the room, perfectly fitted beneath the duvet, Rick even thought it looked like he was curled up as if awaiting hibernation so, he let the dirty t-shirt drop to the floor before he crawled back into bed as if it was the most natural thing in the world. After all, it could be, if it was tonight.

Daryl is awake still, Rick knows because the man shifts his back closer if only by a few inches, not yet entirely willing to let the day go for another one to take its place, his breathing is too light still and there are small triggers in his frame that keeps him from succumbing to sleep even though people who’ve looked far better than Daryl have passed out.

“I wasn’t freaking out before, wasn’t suddenly asking myself what I was doing, if you were wondering. I was just.. realizing you kind of already knew you did and I don’t know, just never expected it, that you’d.. have.. be you know..” Rick confesses, or tries to, once that one scene had stuck itself to his memory, become the main thought to obsess on, made him feel a need to clarify this in return to the look he’d seen in Daryl’s eyes back then.

“Nah.” Daryl mumbled back as if that was supposed to make sense, which it didn’t and Rick decided that he’d earned himself a free pass or two, so he leaned closer, poking him once on the shoulder, then he just kept doing it until Daryl grunted in annoyance and shrugged the victim piece of his back, trying to get away.

“I mean I ain’t shit, done both, don’ gotta label it.” He finally spat out, sighing through his teeth when the poking stopped, almost sounded like he’d been one poke away from twisting around to strangle Rick which could very well have been the truth.

“All these years and I’ve never even given it any thought. I mean the only friends..” Rick started and happily took the elbow to his stomach for that one, cleared his throat once before he proceeded to _correct_ himself.

“Your two best friends, who happen to be men, are together so I knew you at least had nothing against it. I won’t tell them, but I suspect you already knew that since you’re not threatening me to keep my silence.” He said, felt Daryl still even though he wasn’t moving, a strangle feeling that rattled something in the middle of Rick’s spine, then a small twist of Daryl’s neck, though he didn’t turn completely around. Rick took it as some kind of surprise, or puzzlement.

“Well, they don’t know, do they?” Rick asked and it wasn’t even because their friends sucked at keeping secrets that he was sure, surely, even people bad at that would keep something like this quiet if they were asked to, or, knew the person well enough to make a proper decision on how to handle the matter, so rather, it all came down to simply being unaware.

“Nah, they don’. What about ye?” Daryl answered, all honesty and Rick lost his thought the moment he was asked the same, stumped at the purity of the question, like the man wasn’t just moving the topic along but actually asking him to know for the sake of knowing, _getting to know, just don’t read too much into it_.

“Oh, hm.. let’s see, aside from this being my first time with a man and aside from a few imaginations too perhaps, I suppose I wasn’t quite sure, ‘cus I didn’t know entirely. I did however ask once if I could borrow Eric to..” Rick started explaining until Daryl stopped, and finished it for him.

“Ah yeh, Aaron told me, ye were piss drunk ‘n curious what ‘t felt like, kissin’ a dude ‘n makin’ out. He was havin’ a blast while tellin’t.” A sound left Daryl’s lips after, though if it was a one rumbling chuckle or a scoff, Rick couldn’t be sure, but he wasn’t offended, rather he just stretches his limbs before tucking himself back around the furnace in front of him, adjusting the covers over them but not pulling it too high.

“That’s one way to tell it but yeah, pretty much sums it up, but I did learn that I probably had another alignment somewhere that wouldn’t reject the idea of it happening if it was supposed to. Wouldn’t go as far as signing up on dating apps to find a guy but, you know, if it felt the kind of right that makes you fall into the flow then yeah.” Rick said without any restriction, not thinking about it too much didn’t mean you couldn’t have an idea on it after all. If anything, Rick had for a long time thought it was better not to delve too deeply into it, make it into that _seize the day_ expression and let it develop freely instead of it being controlled and adjusted to the rules your head would make out.

“Christ, what’s that then, beginners fuckin’ luck?” Daryl said, definitely scoffing this time in disbelief and Rick smirked proudly, not possessing any doubt about what the man was referring to.

“You know, apparently you’re perfectly good at not being an asshole when you want to yeah?” Rick soothingly mumbled, nuzzling close to Daryl’s ear, hair brushing over his nose, his own shampoo lingering close to his sense of smell and he relished how it tickled repeating shivers through his body.

“Yeah I know.” Daryl mutters perfectly aware of the fact and it’s evident that he chooses to be one most of the time. There’s a long pause of silence that follows while Rick thinks that maybe Daryl does so because it’s easier to deal with people like that, keeps things from getting too complicated, too close, could be that it all boils down to trust issues, or it could be just a pure lack of interest in signing more people than he needs to the roster of social connections. Someone solitary, someone content with individual values even few as they are, someone who’s reckless in all ways but in his choices of people he lets in close, which does mean, and the thought settles heavily in Rick’s gut, but it’s not all too unexpected because their history speaks of it without doubt, that Rick himself, wasn’t ever a part to be considered, not really.

“Ye sure ‘bout lettin’ me stay?” Rick heard him ask, felt the rumble of his voice travel through the back and into Rick’s chest now that he’d slid himself into contact, laying on his back. It was hot still, would be for a while longer but Rick didn’t mind and Daryl, well he’d allowed Rick to lift his dead weight of an arm to pull the duvet over them both enough to cover but not smother, so it didn’t seem likely that he did either.

“I think you really need to sleep if you’re asking me that at this point.” He replied with just a meager amount of sarcasm into the softness, carefully reaching over to card his fingers through Daryl’s hair, softly so to sooth him closer to sleep before he continued.

“Just do me a favor if you wake up before me alright? Don’t strangle me at first glance, at least gimme a chance to defend myself.” Rick requested and Daryl inched his body closer, as if he was making sure to savor the moment at the reminder that tomorrow would be coming.

“Jus’ wake up ‘fore me then.” He muttered like it would solve Rick’s problem and yeah, well, he did had a point but it wasn’t like Rick wanted to cut his sleep short because of it.

“Mhm, you make it sound so simple, you think Eric hasn’t told me a hundred times already how you’re messing up their kitchen in the dead of morning whenever you spend the night there? Summary being, maybe I don’t know much, but I do know you get up at the crack of dawn, so just.. fucking sleep in for once yeah?” Rick fortified his argument, not even trying to stifle the yawn that escaped him, settling his head deeper into his pillow.

“Ye make it sound so simple.” Daryl mocked his tone and Rick softly slapped the back of his head with two fingers before he continued with his ministrations, thinking, mulling while Daryl tilted his head into the touch.

“Alright. Should get some sleep, think you wanna try?” Rick asks and to his surprise Daryl turns his entire body around, propping his head up by using his elbow as support against the bed, eyes downcast and Rick unknowingly braced himself, chest chilling despite the heat under the covers.

“My brother died three years ago.” He says, looking just a little bit lost in thought and he probably was. But he’s not quite grieving as he does, even though it could have sounded close to it, no it rather looked more peaceful than anything lurking of any hard set discomfort, as if it’d been a choice to let himself drift and give himself just a little bit more time with his thoughts.

Rick recalls a moment that falls into the timeline inside his head at the words. He had back then, three years ago thought he’d been put back on the ignore list when Daryl had stopped fighting with him as much, barely chewing back when Rick tried to ignite out of mere habit and it had been weird but, not enough to question. Then Aaron and Eric had, in the absence of Daryl Dixon himself one evening, expressed, concern in their voices, that the man had grown withdrawn on them too, though Daryl had said he’d been tired from work, a flimsy excuse, but the best one he’d gone with, possibly knowing it wouldn’t be questioned because that’s not what they were, even if they’d wanted to, and Rick hadn’t thought much more of it, until now when it all fell into place.

Then Daryl continues, moving through the motions of his thoughts, slow and precise, smiling every now and then when something particular warms his heart, eyes completely lost to the memories but voice remaining present, open and for Rick to listen to every detail, every pause and shift before Daryl would continue and Rick never interrupts him until he’s invited to do so.

“Took some time but, managed t’ figure things out, how they’d be from there on. Ye kno, people say shit like ye’re supposed t’ let go t’ move on, never got that, never made much sense, if I’d done that I ain’t sure I’d have been able t’keep my head together. The only way I’d manage t’feel alright fer the day was t’hold on.“

“Ain’t snowed like this since he been gone, been quite a while even ‘fore that yeah? Usually when ‘t snows, I remember this thing he did once when I’s a kid. Wasn’t supposed to leave the hospital but I’s cooped up, getting’ restless ‘cus ‘t was hard t’move ‘n Merle would visit but hours were slim so I’s going crazy when he snuck in late one night. Had this backpack with clothes, ain’t even sure how he fit them all ‘n me but ye know, dressed fer t’north pole for all I kne’. Anyway, when t’coast was clear he bust me out, sat me ‘n one of those sleds he must have stolen from some rich kids backyard, snow was thick like today back then, enough t’ pull without effort. Well, I’s a light kid ‘n Merle was strong so, that helped too.”

“But he just ye kno’, kept walking, fresh air clearing t’head out, seein’ something other than white walls ‘n. He’d made this terrible hot chocolate too, ‘n with what we had in terms of storin’, ‘t wasn’t even warm. Tasted like piss, watery ‘n burnt, however he managed that, won’t ever find out. But ‘t was still good ye? Ham’n cheese sandwiches, bread dry ‘nough t’ choke on ‘n I think t’ham was old, but ‘t wasn’t anythin’ new fer us, we’d hunt fer fresh meat ‘n anythin’ else had a discount fer a reason.”

“He’s..”

“He was, one’f those people who said more with their mouth shut, don’ make ‘t any less scary tho’, considerin’ he rarely did that. But yeah, he barely spoke a word that night, knew he was sorry though, even tho ‘t wasn’t his fault, he’d sneak out from home most nights without anythin’ happening so he shouldn’t have been thinkin’ this time was any different. Ain’t like you stop yerself every time ye’re about t’climb out t’window ‘n ask yerself ‘f ye shouldn’t ‘cus maybe yer ma plans t’burn t’ house down with everyone ‘n it.”

“I’ve only told him later, ‘cus I wasn’t smart ‘nough as kid of course, that we’d both be gone t’ash ‘f he hadn’t, livin’ like we did, anythin’ amiss would kick yer brain in gear after all, ‘n yet I never woke t’ smell smoke ‘n Merle, I saw him skip ‘is food around at dinner, never really ate it but ma must have thought he had, put two ‘n two together.“

“‘f he hadn’t been horny enough t’ go get some, he’d never found t’ house burnin’ when he came back _,_ there are lots ‘f maybe’s ‘course, Merle could’ve been late, could have stayed, ain’t no tellin’ really, in t’end she burned down alone, pa was on t’lawn watchin’t all turn t’ash ‘n that’s that. Though bein’ older later on we’d always end up debatin’ whether t‘was a good thing ‘r not, purely fer t’hell ‘f it, usually piss drunk ‘nough t’pass out after. Always loved seeing his face those times, lookin’ truly happy as we cursed our dear ol’ ma to shitters, raising our drink’s ‘n tell that bitch t’ take that ‘cus we’re still goin’ fer another year, then we’d do t’same fer our pa n’ t’piece ‘f shit he was, decidin’ better in t’end, even with all t’shit. Better”

“I remember that, then ‘t melts away as t’snow does, t’ winter season repeats, except this year t’wasn’t melting n’ I suppose that’s why everything got a bit too real, he too. Fell asleep ‘n was right back ‘n that sled, could feel t’cold bitin’ my skin, hear t’snow creakin’ beneath t’ shuffle ‘f his boots, see his broad back wavin’ t’ his steps, taste the choco n’ spoiled ham, then I woke up, called ‘is name n’ remembered he ain’t here anymore. “ Daryl stops at that and Rick can almost hear how well practiced his voice must have come out laying in his own bed hours ago, in his _home_ , the sound of a habit beating strong once more in its former glory before fading to what it had become, something mute, and unused, paler every year because there was no longer anyone to refresh the colors, just fading.

And Rick, he wishes in that moment, that it could have been a typical kind of ghost depicted in a movie, or a TV show, one visible or translucent, shapeless or stark edges. Or, one appearing from your soul caving open, with rot settling in to fester before it can be carved off and allowed to heal, a thing of the mind, seeing that which you want to see, clearer than anything else. If it could have been one of those, Rick likes to imagine this shapeless edge with a nervous, almost guilty lilt to its form. He does so out of the words spoken about the man, in the way they’d been carefully picked, the tone carried for the brother, warm and loving as they’d been spoken, thinking this ghost wouldn’t have meant to pop a scare, had just wanted to stay a little longer and so, he’d look the part too. But most of all, this kind of ghost you can shout at, Daryl could tell it to fuck off and maybe, he’d even smile while doing so, at least that would be something. 

But that’s not the case, and won’t be, no matter how Rick wishes for it to be. This ghost is different after all, because it bears no presence to flaunt and scare with. Rick can see what kind it is now, what it is that haunts in the home of Daryl Dixon somewhere in the city of Atlanta, that smothers and binds to the point where you can’t stay, where you have to escape to breathe again. It’s the reality of the emptiness, of nothing but darkness and noiseless walls that must have been otherwise before, of a call history lacking one particular name because that number won’t ever call again, of no additional plates neglected for another day after a shared meal, of a single glass raised, alone in the air for a toast that won’t be joined no more, and, it’s the cold truth of only hearing yourself, as Daryl had called his brother’s name, because there was no one to answer it. It consumes, claims, grinds and gnaws, the truth does. Because that’s the crown that this ghost is carrying, reality as bitter as it can come, draping the conscious pieces of your mind with an overbearing absence of what should be there, what had been expected to be there but is not and you should have known, reminding you only of what is gone rather than allowing you to remember what you still have, of the good left behind in memories and treasured items. And, when its strong enough to push even someone like Daryl Dixon into the turmoil of chaos that ends in a bedding of trash in the freezing cold and snow, piss drunk with no care for his own well being when it, or nothing at all matters to him no more, as long as he can’t slumber deep enough to end up in that sled again, then the truth, Rick thinks, haunts more cruelly than any real ghost would.

“Why..” The question is unfinished, halted before it can properly form either to Rick’s own inability to muster all the words or, because a silent part of him decides it’s all there needs to be, the full meaning is obvious regardless of which.

“May have been drunk, maybe still am a little but, ye know.. don’ mean I don’t remember every little twist ‘n yer face throughout t’evening. I heard ye back then, though ‘t was more spoken to yerself, so ‘t don’ count. Ye never asked Rick, even though I know ye wanted to. You n’ I, we don’ hold such obligations, we ain’t friends ‘r anythin’ but yer decent, which means that even ‘f ‘t claws at yer insides ye’ll take this t’yer grave ‘f ye have t’, ye won’t use’t against me. Think it’s ‘cus we ain’t anything, like writing something down ‘n a note n’ burnin’t afterwards and ye worried, even when I’ve never done anythin’ to deserve it, that’s why I..” Daryl says, his train of thought derailing toward the end with his mouth working to try and proceed but in the end, he gives up and his mouth goes still, settling at that and occupies himself with brushing a thumb over Rick’s cheek. It scrapes over his beard, not pushing through to breach, but not sailing softly on the top either. It’s as tender as it is needed to be, and it’s strings Rick’s chest tighter while he melts into the touch, his eyes dipping down, breaking contact as they go.

“Think it sounds like a wonderful memory, minus a few details and you ending up sleeping in trash of course.” Rick murmurs, swayed by the touch and how the other four fingers has joined, how they absently card through the growth beneath his cheek bone, following along the lead of the thumb.

“’t is.” Daryl breaths and Rick thinks he may have found the good in what was left behind again, or maybe, he was starting to remember how to do so, how to make his memories his own once more and not something lost to the darkness.

“That’s how you got..” Rick asks and he doesn’t have to specify or point, a question is all that’s needed.

“Yeah, t’ partin’ gift from ma, not t’one she’d intended fer obviously but yeah, got burned pretty good, Merle too, climbin’ into a burning house will do that t’ye. Always was reckless ‘n stupid, my big brother, but he was good, don’ care what anyone else thought ‘f him. Ain’t why I joined t’department ‘f yer wonderin’. Jus’ right time an’ right place, they were recruitin’. Happy accident ‘r somethin’.” Daryl says and Rick decides to believe him. Daryl Dixon isn’t a liar unless he’s childishly intertwined in yet another competition of theirs, where a lie or two may just win the case for him, but in all matters aside from their bickering and fighting, Daryl is more inclined to say less or nothing at all rather than lie, and on this matter, Rick can’t say for sure that it’s not one of those cases.

“At least Aaron claims that you’re good at your job.” Rick innocently states in pretend mock instead of pursuing something that won’t end well, as if he’s not admitting he has any reason to agree because he’s never been proven wrong. But he does, in his own head he does, the dirty and worn skin he’s seen for himself with new eyes tonight, with Aaron’s praise however seemingly casual it may appear as he talks about his day and what they’ve worked through. They’re tough, both of them, minds of steel that keeps pushing even when they have nothing left to give, because they aren’t allowed to take a step back before it’s done.

“After all this time he has t’say that, didn’t always work with ‘im, two years into t’job I’d gotten my nerves stepped on one too many times by t’prick I was partnered with, we’re all a team but, we got a buddie system too with that. Was a.. one ‘f those high ‘n mighty types, used t’job t’ brag, never really put ‘n effort into it n’ fer that, eventually, I knocked him ‘n his ass.” Daryl tells him and Rick remembers this one from one of Aaron’s many tales, though he’d never told it in the presence of Daryl himself, considering he’d expressed how he’d worried his ass off after arriving a few days post-incident, only to hear the story and receive a bunch of supporting smacks on his back wishing him good luck under the guidance of Daryl Dixon, chuckling while they gave him the advice to not act like a stupid prick else he’d get the same. So yeah, of course he’d been worried about behaving wrong, only he hadn’t known that the stories had been a bit exaggerated and most of the crew had harnessed similar opinions about the dude Daryl had hit, they just wanted to mess with him. It took him a long ass time of patting on his tip toes before he started realizing they’d busted his balls for the hell of it, that Daryl Dixon’s patience when it came to work wasn’t something to snap easily and he was yeah, unsocial and harsh, but decent and dedicated, someone Aaron could respect.

Though Rick had of course, scoffed at the time he’d heard it and muttered that he could have used some of that admired patience before he got smacked and Aaron had chuckled. Work and private business was two separate things after all and Rick wasn’t pretending he didn’t understand that, for which Aaron, had been grateful.

“Speaking of, something like that got anything to do with this..” Rick asks, gently letting the tips of his fingers trace over the bruised area he knows hides beneath the covers.

“Na, wasn’t much ‘f a fight.. tripped n’ fell down one ‘f those long stone steps, somewhere, ain’t sure where.” Daryl says and Rick huffs a laugh before he can contain it, the image of a tumbling Dixon down a couple, or plenty, stone steps in his drunken stupor, all too amusing if you edit out the bad that caused it all to begin with.

“Bested by stairs huh?” He jokes, his tone settling the matter and it doesn’t require and answer, unless Daryl wants to chew back for the comment which Rick actually finds himself expecting, any second now he’ll be told to shut up or get another elbow in his stomach, maybe even both but it’s neither, instead Rick hears his name.

“Rick?” It’s quiet, almost lulling as if Daryl is finally letting go of his desperate grip to refuse sleep.

“Mhm?” Rick hums quietly, buzzing and soothing to keep the man in the direction Rick thinks, _hopes,_ he’s heading.

“Ye make the lasagna?” Daryl asks instead and Rick has to blink a couple of times and work the words around his head at the sudden change of topic but they merge with his consciousness soon enough, eases into a slot Rick didn’t know he had for them and he closes his eyes.

“Yeah I did.” He mumbles as Daryl lets himself go slack, tucking his head away into the crook of Rick’s neck.

“Aight.” Daryl mumbles, his voice sounds just short of falling asleep and his breath is thickening, sinking deeper against Rick’s chest where it puffs out warm against his skin. It’s really just one simple word but, Rick can’t help the way the smile on his lips widens, there’s only one reason he asked right?

_It was delicious._

“Thank you.”

* * *

“Guys guys please how come you’re worse than normal, we aren’t even in a bar!” Eric pleaded, trying to pry himself in between two fuming, muscle twitching rocks without much success and had to doge right back out when a sharp spear like index finger surged through the minimal space between and poked at Rick’s chest with a heavy thud.

There wasn’t much snow left littering Atlanta. It had stopped falling the day after new years and along with the temperature increasing as it ceased, it was all melting away in haste. The streets were clearing up with the aid of constant traffic in all manners, leaving behind a more gray scaled slush that easily soaked your shoes, before even that, eventually, with a little more time would be gone as well and only the isolated spaces like snug alleys and parks kept its small cluttering heaps of sunken white for a while longer.

It was by pure coincidence, as Rick and Eric had chosen to take a shortcut that they’d run into Aaron and Daryl, apparently doing the exact same but as always, it didn’t make anything better. Rick had learned over the years that the accidental run-ins were always worse than any planned meetings, bringing an instant sour mood like those times were you just want some extra salt into your food so you take the shaker but nothing happens, then you’re stupid enough to screw the lid off, knock the bottom a few times to scatter what’s in it and because you’re lazy, you think you’ll just tip it carefully instead of screwing the lid back on and it all goes smooth and well until a large chunk hatches loose and drops into your food. That kind of thing, the accidental meetings that Rick has had with Daryl with or without their shared friends, is exactly what it feels like.

This time started off with the bitter glares of having ones day ruined, like finding black mold spotting and you just got another whole kind of thing to deal with after an extended shift that you really don’t want to, but it’s not like the idea of postponing it is very appealing either. Rick can’t say he’d expected any less though, it’s the first time they’re meeting one another after their.. shared night in which, obviously as Rick is still walking, breathing and able to construct sentences that people can actually comprehend, survived. He’d gotten the stink eyes and mutters beneath breaths, but in all honesty it wasn’t not something he could pay any attention too, not with the dark red and soft checkered scarf wrapped tightly around Daryl’s neck and he’d allowed himself be distracted for as long as he felt like, absently answering with one ear listening enough to get away with it if anything was directed to him.

The daylight had enhanced the colors, as discreet as they are they blended with the bitten skin, both paling over the face and pinking at the tip of his nose from the cold even though it was warmer right now and then adding the brown shaggy hair, Rick refused to let it make him strike up a blush he wouldn’t have been able to explain, after all it was nothing, he’d more or less shoved the thing onto the man seeing he seemed to have gotten childishly attached to the garment and Rick had been more than happy to give it to him. But it’s still weird, yeah he’s going to use weird, even though it shouldn’t be because he’d seen the man wear it already and had thought nothing of the likes back then, hell Rick had even seen him snuggle into it in a drunken hesitant refusal to part with it. Yet he couldn’t help it and he’d easily fed himself with the excuse of the daylight being at fault, for twisting shit and, that he possibly hadn’t had enough coffee to wake up completely yet. Well, the last part was as pathetic as it could be, he’s on his lunch break after all and he should be fired if he wasn’t awake at this point for reckless endangerment and whatnot, but he’s stubborn enough to hold on tightly to it nonetheless.

The other two, that weren’t still working, had looked tired like old leather boots falling apart at every seam, drying cracks all over and everything. Rick knew through Eric that the two had been on a long 24hour shift, well, he’d been told just before they’d entered the park on their way to grab coffee as part of their status update -and breather conversation routine. It wasn’t all too often that they changed it up, but it happened and those times it was always Eric who came to get Rick instead of Rick going to Eric. They’d been heading the same way back through the park after getting themselves one cup each when Eric had made a delighted noise and hurried onwards to embrace his partner in a tight hug. Looked nice, considering all Rick had gotten was a muffled curse and a, seemingly directed to no one but no doubt directed at Rick all the same, statement about _last fuckin’ thing he needed_ , which was, clearly proof of everything being back to normal again. Rick had immaturely taken the bait right away, as if forced to and, in a way, he supposed he was, clicked his tongue before he’d said _ain’t like it’s any different for me asshole_ , pure automation in the works while he indulged himself in remembering the morning after instead.

He’d done more than survive it.

Rick remembers rough skin of a possessive sleeper, refusing to let him go that had, slept in like Rick had suggested, though if it was to comply or simply to rest his system out because it demanded it, well Rick hadn’t even tried to digest that question and had just appreciated it for having happened. The man had looked refreshed, aside from a hung over sporting behind the curtain of hair and lashes of course, but still, well rested by the way his first morning yawn had been drawn out and soft, like the ones you had after a good night’s sleep that would turn everything inside you, mind and body into mush and he’d even stayed in bed half snoozing in his hibernating nest of heat.

It had coaxed Rick to laze around a while longer, not entirely willing to break the spell just yet when he could relish in the fact that Daryl hadn’t, once again, chosen to strangle him upon seeing his face through the pleasant grog of sleep tucking its soothing lull all around, all it was lacking now was the man calling his name and it wouldn’t be all too far from the night before when they’d met. Rick hadn’t even stopped himself from admitting how nice it was, fucking hell of course it was right? He’d been single for a long time with only casual flings that had never led very far but it was growing painfully clear that he’d missed this part even if he’d honestly believed he was fine with it. Then again that’s easy to do when you get used to it, all up until you get a smack in the face reminder of tasting it anew, which of course, then makes it all the harder to deal with when it’s gone again, especially when you’re aware of the fact that it will be.

He knew this, he also knew it hadn’t meant he had to ignore what little good came with it before he would have to re-adjust once more. Even temporary as it was he’d chosen to enjoy it while he could the second he’d told the man to sleep a little longer in a hushed tone, and Daryl had complied without a fight, drifting off in a snooze and providing Rick’s apartment with a small and delicate noise of another presence instead of the still quiet of emptiness that had become a part of his walls. Though he’d sat up in bed, about to get up, he’d stayed a moment longer, dumbstruck over the lack of resistance at that and somewhat confused over the short beat of a squeeze his heart did, wondering just how far the rules of the night would remain, an hour, breakfast, a shower after that? It had been hard to tell, already past expectations considering the bed had clearly still been occupied instead of empty and yeah, he was alive and not fighting for his life too.

He remembers an argument he’d barely won and how he’d owe Aaron for the rest of his life for the few stories he’d told about how hard it had been to get the man to go home, or force him into a car and drive him back to his and Eric’s when the man had been out of his head, fever high and barely standing when he’d arrived for his shift. Though short lived stories, they had, thankfully, given Rick an idea on how to deal with Daryl Dixon when it came to convincing the man that it’d be better for him to call in a sick day rather than drag his ass to work, rested or not, it simply wouldn’t have cut it, Rick had known from one look.

A flash of an accidental snoop comes along as he proceeds through that morning. Rick had been emptying Daryl’s clothes from personal belongings so he could put them in the washer after the smell of garbage had invaded his nostrils, when the screen had lit up from the touch of his thumb as he was placing it on the floor with the keys and wallet. He’d read the name _Carol_ on the screen, a notification of six missed calls accumulated and second notification of a threatening text message explaining how she would make use of Aaron’s phone number if ( _so help me god)_ Daryl Dixon hadn’t picked up his phone in 2 hours and Rick had gotten stuck staring at it longer than he was supposed to. He’d thought, since the beginning, that the only people in Daryl’s life was Aaron and Eric, which obviously was quite naïve but who could blame him? As antisocial as that fucker was, never hearing him talk about other people that didn’t belong to work, never hearing Aaron or Eric mention any friends or family of his either, what else was he supposed to expect? Nonetheless it made him feel guilty for thinking his narrowed and limited path of thoughts and his chest sunk a little.

Of course there would be a chance of more people that the three of them would be unaware of, Aaron wasn’t wrong after all, Daryl Dixon was as private as private went with few to no exceptions, hell Rick had known him for years and just found out that for a couple of those, the man’s brother had still been alive and none of them had known about any siblings regardless. Maybe Carol was too, a sister considering all the calls, she’d obviously worried, or a friend, or maybe one of those exes that you stay in touch with, the kind of love that remains in a platonic manner when you’ve realized you aren’t happy in a lover’s relationship anymore.

He hadn’t meant to pry, that hadn’t been his intention and it wasn’t his fault the phones showed notifications before you swiped to enter your password so why did he have to feel guilty about accidently seeing something he knew he hadn’t been meant to see? Not to mention, feeling guilty for assuming things again, when he should have known better at that point, yet he still had. Rick had felt a shrill of fear running up his spine just reading it. Didn’t matter much who she was, it mattered that she was comfortable and free enough to write something like that, something Rick though only Eric could get away with and Rick’s view had painfully narrowed even further even though it should have expanded since last night. As far as the three of them went, this one was different still wasn’t she? She’d written Aaron’s name, had his number in case of an emergency (as part of the notification text had stated), she knew about them when they didn’t know about her, was trusted with the knowledge of the people in Daryl’s life and she also, clearly respected his choices in the way she had yet to dial a number for the sake of maintaining the man’s privacy and Rick? Well he found out that he didn’t feel much differently on that subject. Even if it had sucked to wake the man up he’d still made sure that Daryl had been in touch with his phone within the time limit, playing it innocent because it was better in the end, if he never knew Rick learned something new about the man without his consent, even if it had been by accident.

He remembers a messily tossed together breakfast made by Dixon himself, random ingredients piling on his kitchen countertop in no order or reason other than the items being the closest to grab from the fridge, he’d feared the creation, questioned whether or not the man even knew how to make breakfast, to which Daryl had shrugged and told him to deal with it. Nonetheless, Rick had sat his ass down at the table, determined to eat the horrid.. whatever it had been because he’d seen the effort, the struggle and frustration that had made the thing to be, warm and cooked, knowing the man did appreciate good food even if he’d muttered about not caring for flavors, all too aware of his personal flaws but forcing himself regardless to make something. Rick had thought that had been a force of habit too, Daryl’s lack of interest in making his food good, but that breakfast, though it was far from good it had tasted sweetly of shy gratitude and Rick had eaten every last bite of it.

The air in his apartment had been soothing and despite the few sparks of anger that they couldn’t avoid due to their deeply engraved natures toward one another, Rick couldn’t ignore that there was a hushed promise about it all, _we still doin’ this a while longer?_ It whispered. And as long as neither of them chose to comment on it, they succumbed to it instead, allowing an innocent touch here, a greedy claim of warmth there, nothing overbearing just.. every once in a while lingering close to one another, almost gravitating back and forth as if they couldn’t help it. The why behind it, Rick had thought once the _call_ had happened, was startling when he realized it, a bit confusing but, warming all the same, Daryl Dixon’s guard was down. Not as much as the night prior, but enough to be relaxed, the man being in the middle of an argument on the phone, losing that one too from the sound of it and ultimately, being left to apologize repeatedly, making a bunch of promises that weren’t meant for keeping as much as they were said for the sake of caring.

_“Yeah, a friend, no not Aaron and Eric, yeah him who fuck else do I kno’, shut up will ye? No not a fuckin’ word Carol I swear.. fuck I’m sorry alright, I kno’ I’s supposed to come by like I usually do but I’ll come today yeah? So’s don’ gimme this shit now, save ‘t fer later. Well, tell Sophia I’m sorry ‘n I promise her too.”_

When he’d caught sight of Rick being within earshot, his mouth had zipped closed just staring at Rick but he’d never said anything, nor had he cut the call, just watched Rick’s presence being there, steady like a perfect heartbeat while Rick himself had considered the option of removing himself from the room to leave him to it.

 _“Ye, love ye both too.”_ He’d finally bitten out as quietly as he could, twisting himself and the phone away as if that would hush his voice entirely, did a fair job but not one good enough. If Rick got to guess, up until then there’d only been silence over the line and Daryl hadn’t been able to bring himself to close the call without saying it back, especially when this call was one that seemed to matter. If the man had wanted to he could have gotten away with just using _you too_ but either that hadn’t occurred to him or, and Rick favored this one, it wasn’t properly conveyed like that and he wasn’t one to half ass on what was important. In the end though, he’d done it despite Rick’s presence, Rick hadn’t needed anything else to come to his conclusion after that.

There’s a palette of paint in limited colors but it’s stark regardless in Rick’s mind. They have faded some at this point, but they aren’t completely gone, not enough time has passed. The various shades of blue and purples, had littered on skin both his own and temporary companion, had flared in the freshness of the damage back then, from stone steps and clawing fingers and Rick had traced his own in the mirror reflecting every moon shaped dip of color left behind on him and the nasty set of teeth at the root of his throat, that one still hurts, even now. Daryl’s had looked worse than Rick had thought they’d be when he’d caught sight of them in proper light, door to the bathroom left ajar in a careless attitude that hadn’t felt the same kind of need for closed in privacy as the night prior. Daryl had moved about slowly, drying himself with the towel, breathing himself through it with practiced control, like he wasn’t a stranger to how you endured physical pain and when he turned to reach for his clothes, the only thing Rick could hear in his head was the sound of Daryl’s voice..

 _“We’d do t’same fer our pa n’ t’piece ‘f shit he was.”_ Rick had lingered if only for a moment, tried to unclench his jaw before he’d looked away and moved along, forcing that bit of truth down no matter how bitter it tasted and threatened to come right back up, he’d hold it down even if he knew it wouldn’t have been forbidden in that moment, he’d be allowed should he have chosen to make himself noticed, the fact the door wasn’t closed was enough to know that, but he’d decided let it remain untouched. Wasn’t right like that, wasn’t how Rick thought it was supposed to go, so he’d hold it down, force it deep, he would.

Then, Rick remembers Daryl dozing with his head on Rick’s shoulder. They’d been idling on the couch with their eyes on a TV show, not entirely watching while the dryer had stopped humming in the background and beeped its announcement of being done with the program and Daryl hadn’t moved a muscle, there’d just been the sigh of a breath before he’d adjusted his neck, resting back down again. He hadn’t left, even though he could have with his clothes being freshly dried, they would even have been warm to the touch if they’d gone to grab them too, hell, Rick knows Daryl could have left earlier than that if he’d wanted to, it wouldn’t be much of a job to sort the clothes out later if the man simply borrowed Rick’s until they could trade back. The TV had flashed, mulled in low volume and Rick didn’t know why, but his chest had hurt. Yet he hadn’t moved either.

Rick remembers..

 _“Tell her I say hi back?”_ Rick had requested while he’d tucked the scarf around Daryl’s neck after repeating that it was fine, he could have it, Rick didn’t need it, no seriously.. and the list of reasons went on until Rick had convinced the man to accept the scarf he’d spent the last hour being attached to once more, reluctantly separating it from himself when he’d decided they were done pretending, that time was up.

Daryl had smelled like Rick’s wood anemone and sacred lotus, standing in his hallway as they were about to part. Rick had been half lost himself with Daryl dressed in his freshly washed and dried clothes, the shampoo and shower gel had been one thing, a regular one almost, if Rick would be one to compare that with his fabric softener on Daryl’s clothes, which was an entirely different thing. All too alluring, he’d breathed his scent scattered between the tight spacing of his hallway walls while he thought it was far more intimate to have the smell of his private laundry on the other man, why he thought that? He didn’t know, but he knew it was messing with him royally.

 _“How t’fuck ye kno’..”_ Daryl had replied, burying his nose once more into the nest and Rick hadn’t been sure if he was smelling it or just enjoying the soft texture of the fabric against his skin, could be either, could be both. Either way, he was getting his share, branding the combined smells to memory.

 _“Lucky guess? I felt this surge of happiness before so it must have been sent through mental waves knowing you wouldn’t deliver.”_ Rick had given a careful smile, careful in the sense that it carried some smugness in the background and he’d rested his body against the wall in the hallway while Daryl pulled his boots on.

 _“Ain’t happening, ye two are never speakin’.”_ Rick had fully grinned at that, unable to stop himself and had put both indexes toward his temples, half closing his eyes while focusing, face frowning up until his features slacked again and he gave a nod of a approval. Daryl had looked on in disbelief like he was finally popping the last screw holding Rick together.

 _“There, I’m sure she got that.”_ He’d voiced proudly. Daryl merely shakes his head and calls Rick an idiot, voice low and rumbling.

 _“Hey I mean it, even if you have to lie about it, tell her something nice. Sounds like she’s quite something, like she worried to hell if you had to respond like you did on the phone, it’s something precious and it reminds me of Aaron and Eric, so just tell her something yeah?”_ Rick says, he’d been earnest, ducking his head to peer into Daryl’s eyes for the words to slide past, to connect and Daryl had huffed, steered his eyes away, once more carrying that same warm smile he’d worn when he’d spoken about his brother. Rick already knew he liked that smile more than what was good for him.

_"Anyone capable ‘f twistin’ my brother to tie the knot, they’d have to be amazing. Ain’t promisin’ anythin’, but maybe I just may come up with somethin’ fer her.”_

* * *

It was warm still, even as Rick had been left alone in his apartment and all he had left, was to deal with the crushing devastation that the adjustment had begun, knowing that the cold will settle in with time, knowing, as he absently touched his index against the corner of his lip, giving it a slight push while he replayed that smile of Daryl’s that makes him blindingly beautiful, that he was probably fucked.

And so, here they were with Rick realizing he was foolish to reminisce about those events, he shouldn’t have done it, how he’s regretting every micro second of letting the memories prolong and pile on, all so vivid in his head, he doesn’t want to think about it anymore. His passive automatic responses must have fueled the escalation and Rick wasn’t even sure what they were arguing about now, but they definitely were. Eric had given up on trying to break it apart, tucking himself close to Aaron while shaking his head in a _every damn time_ kind of way.

“Why Aaron?” He asked in a more dramatic dejection rather than an honest one, watching the scene of the their two friends being up in each other’s faces unfold, with the obvious telltale of rooster like puffing going on in their shoulders, buffing themselves up to intimidate the other.

“I dunno, just.. something’s off isn’t it?” Aaron quirked his head, squinting his eyes to try and see more than just some outlines of whatever he was picking up on. Currently, they’re at the stage before there’d be immature slaps on shoulders, chest and arms and hands which would then, of course, along with a few bitten promised threats that despite their sincerity, wouldn’t ever come true, would lead to a tight spaced physical competition of strength. This one, Rick was always in to lose if it all came down to size alone, though they were equal height (of course, this had been a frequent reason to argue and Rick always claimed he was taller but really, he was just stooping low enough for the sake of winning to use his wavy curls against Daryl’s flat fall as an additional to boost to his height), Daryl was packing more muscles and, held the heavier weight. But Rick played it smart, or unfair, all depended on who’s judgment was on duty at the time. He’d make use to angles, push and pull to sway raw strength, bidding it more to do as he himself wished rather than the other and if anyone asked him, he had most definitely not upped his defense classes for the sake of fighting with Daryl Dixon.

“Hm, I mean it looks worse but you’re right, it isn’t really, it’s friendlier than normal isn’t it?” Eric mused while Aaron kept him safely tucked to his side now that they’d given up on stopping anything from going to shits, opting to stay safe themselves and just let the events unfold. There hadn’t been quite an incident like the first one ever since after all, bickering and fighting yeah but nothing that had seriously hurt, rather the pair would say it had devolved over time into a kindergarten type of fighting, taking a toy like Rick frowning at the smoke when Daryl lit a cigarette right at the table, snatching it and stubbing it out while telling the man to go outside instead, stealing a toy back in the manner of Daryl going for all the snacks on Rick’s side of the table and eating as much as he could, as fast as he could, just you know, the regular kind of thing of hair pulling and doodling over another kids art with a different colored crayon for the hell of it. Given the years they’d gotten to perfect this, neither Eric nor Aaron thought either of them ever gave it any thought on how stupid it looked and they most likely didn’t even realize what they were doing half of the time, if not the majority of the time and just did it.

“The only reason I’m not is because you didn’t and you fucking know that, why are you giving me shit about it now?” There was a shove at least, and another stab of finger that Rick deflected by smacking Daryl’s lower arm from above and a heavy sigh wheezed itself out of Aaron, wondering for a moment if he’d need to try and break the two up after all when Daryl loosened the scarf he had on, maybe having better luck than Eric, his best option would most likely be to grab a hold of Daryl and pull him out of the park if he had to, unless he wanted to witness Rick being strangled with a piece of fabric from the looks of it.

“Thought ye’d have a fuckin’ spare or somethin’, jus’ stop fuckin’ strugglin’.” Daryl spat while he closed the small remaining space between himself and Rick, ignoring the resisting hands that tumbled the piece of fabric into a mess and Aaron halted his thoughts while they were twisting themselves into the scarf, one forcing forward and the other trying to detach in desperation. Their hands were going everywhere, up, sides, forwards and back in the struggle.

“Oh, Aaron is he trying to..?” Eric asked at his side, pulling at his jacket around the elbow in either worry or confirmation, Aaron chose the latter.

“I think he is.” Yeah, Daryl was clearly trying to wrap an unwilling Rick with the scarf he’d carried around his own neck, the poor piece of fabric stretching in limbo between them displaying a cruel fate to be if things kept up as they were. Nonetheless the loving pair was unable to move, the joints and gears attempting to fully understand the sight, rusty and screeching after a long time of neglect, forgotten and left behind in the comfort of their uneventful romantic life, well aside from two friends constantly fighting. Neither said it, nor knew about the other thinking it, but they both swore to get some maintenance done on their comprehension, they used to be better at this kind of thing after all, before they’d grown slack and let their guards down.

Rick had lost two rounds and the scarf had latched itself in one lap before he’d won one by bending his knees and arching his back, making the second lap twirl upwards and over his forehead, his curls plopping out in stray chaos and his breath had wheezed, almost growled like his limit was being prodded dangerously close to snapping. This wasn’t his idea of a nice walk through the park to enjoy his chat with Eric before they’d part at the station, with Eric going left to the adjoined building and Rick going right, instead his pulse was kicking from exertion he didn’t want and his jaws bit together in irritation he really didn’t need.

“It’s fine asshole, keep it, I gave it, I didn’t lend it and I’ll just buy a new one later I just haven’t gotten around to do it and the weather has been better so fuckin’ give it a rest, _ain’t like you care_..” Rick started to reason, words coming out gruff and stiff, every point stabbing in a similar fashion to the way Daryl’s finger had done at his chest, and he got as far as that before his voice was cut short while imitating the same words Daryl had used the night before, by a hand forcefully sliding a hold of his collar, a violent tug added to that and Rick lost his balance enough to stumble forth a step. _They don’t know do they._

“Oh.. oh. Is this happening, Eric, pinch me.” Aaron was saying, but aside from Eric hearing it, it fell on two sets of deaf ears, Rick’s particularly thick cotton filled tunnels could get nothing in while he tried to force himself out of the sudden shock. Warm lips were laying siege onto his own in the mild chill of the park, but never invading, it wasn’t that kind of kiss after all and Rick remembered the feeling of this, but it was happening and Rick’s brain short circuited constantly wave after wave until Daryl let him free, parting to leave some space between them.

“I may just fuckin’ be startin’ too so just shut up Rick, fuck’s sake.” Daryl mutters, eyes turning away and Rick thought Daryl may just be a bit scared on how his ill-formed plan would pan out. No scratch that, this wasn’t much of a fabricated plan at all, it could maybe hold some parts to something but most of all it was definitely, right here and now, a spur of the moment kind of thing, rushed and full of risk, all to shut him up apparently. But Rick knew these words, how they played to the very own he’d childishly lashed back with and he didn’t think twice about before replying, knew the answer by heart as he was unable to forget.

“ _Gross_.” Rick said, simple, one word, easy, probably the sound of something going wrong for anyone else, but not to the two of them. Rick held his eyes steadily on the man in front of him, waiting for the moment to come and shortly, Daryl peered his own back to Rick, flushing in his cheeks, cold blues softening, warming at the word that spoke in some language of their own they seemed to have formed, a confirmation, or acceptance, and the flash of the image carrying their horrible forced smiles with their fingers twisting them to happen, something that had been theirs on New Year’s Eve, no matter what had laid behind it all.

“Hey Aaron, remember a few years back in the early days when I joked and said bet you ten bucks it’s sexual tension and you said you’d take that bet because there was no way?” Eric’s voice was but a mere muffled sound to Rick somewhere in the background, fuck they didn’t exist much, no matter how much Rick loved them, he knew the man was speaking but Rick wasn’t listening, caught up where he was, if he had though, he’d probably gotten to see Aaron had opening his wallet without protest, not even caring that the bet had been a joke, the pair both sporting the surprised O shaped mouths trying to properly believe in what they’d seen.

“So, how long’s yer break?” Daryl asks and they’re still hovering close, maintaining that minimal space between without being aware of it.

“Another forty minutes?” Rick replies, a bit unsure after doing the math but something like that, he and Eric had barely been out and the walk to the park only took a few minutes so, shouldn’t be too far off the count.

“I’ll do it, if ye wanna ye kno.. or somethin’, replace yers, food?” The entire sentence is a mess akin to a list of guide words when holding a speech, highlighting the main topics but not giving you more than that and Rick frowns, confused, maybe just a little nervous about understanding them wrong with the messed up way they were spoken.

“What.”

“I wanna fuckin’ buy ye one that new one right now n’feed us some fuckin’ food, so jus’..” Daryl stops himself, tongue working in his mouth to fabricate the words he wants to use while fighting frustration of not getting them in the polite manner he may have wanted for what he was trying to do, his fingers adjusts the scarf to properly set around Rick’s neck instead of letting it remain in its sad state of half wraps and loose fabric giving in to gravitation and Rick remembers how he’d done the same back then in the middle of the night on New Year’s Eve. Daryl’s fingers lingers on the fabric, carefully, as if touching something precious, not even pretending that for him, this simple piece of clothing isn’t exactly that to someone like him, before he continues.

“Hold ‘n t’this one ‘n give ‘t to me again when I get one fer ye, if ye want that is. Was plannin’to anyway, later, buy one ‘n tell ye that I weren’t wrong ‘fore, we weren’t fer a long time, still weren’t when ye asked me either, but then, now.. I ain’t sure anymore so I’m fuckin’ askin ye out alright?” The man says and Rick dares think that maybe, it’s not just the fabric gifted the gentle touch, maybe it runs deeper than laps around his neck. It makes him awfully aware, all of a sudden, of how his heart has started pounding, mind and body warming all the same at the clear frustration of Daryl spelling it out without leaving any room for any misinterpretation, _they can be,_ and Rick looks at Daryl with his frame all nervous in the way he holds in on himself, red tinting on his cheeks and not just his nose anymore as he’d finished his piece while Rick remains unaware that he’s sporting his own decent shade himself. He lets his fingers brush over Daryl’s limp hand hanging on the side and thinks that it may be a short 40 minute date but, Rick doesn’t care.

_Maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to see his mug from now on. Maybe, it could actually be quite wonderful._

“I’d like that very much. And maybe a pair of mittens.”


End file.
